


The Transition of the Therapist

by Rochelle_Templer



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Extended Scenes, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, brief mentions of violence and trauma, episode tags, scenes between episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochelle_Templer/pseuds/Rochelle_Templer
Summary: How did Sweets go from a potential murder suspect at the end of Season Three to a trusted team member in Season Four? A series of one-shots and short fics.





	1. Irritating Insight

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought that it was interesting how Sweets' status with the rest of the team changed between seasons three and four. Thus, I figured there must have been plenty of moments that led to that change that happened offscreen (or in the characters heads) which lead to this series of semi-connected short fics.
> 
> This chapter takes place right after The Verdict in the Story.

Doctor Lance Sweets sat in the Royal Diner by the window, and was picking at his lunch instead of eating it. He kept staring outside and fidgeting in his seat.

Just a couple of hours ago, the trial for Max Keenan, Doctor Brennan’s father, had completed. To everyone’s amazement, the jury found him not guilty. Sweets shook his head; if anyone had told him at the start of this trial that Max would actually get away with Kirby’s murder, he would have considered them prime candidates for therapy. Yet here it was: Max was free and off celebrating with Russ and Brennan.

Everyone else from the Jeffersonian, Cam, Hodgins, Zack, and Angela, who thankfully they had released from jail, had joined in the celebration at the Founding Fathers bar. Originally, Sweets had planned on going too, but he noticed that Booth kept staring at him and giving him odd expressions. When Cam asked him if he wanted to come along, Sweets gave an excuse of work, and made a discreet exit.

Now after only an hour of work, he was here trying to eat some lunch since he hadn’t had much that day so far. But it was hard for him to enjoy food while he was trying to sift through everything in his mind.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of a chair scrapping along the floor. He looked over to see Booth sitting down across from him.

“Hey Sweets, why didn’t you join Bones and everyone else for the celebration?” he said, stealing a couple fries from his plate. Sweets averted his gaze back outside.

“I uh…I had some things to do at the office,” he said. “Then I got kind of hungry so, uh I came here.” He glanced back to see Booth nodding at him.

“Yeah right, busy huh?” he said. “You mean like starting that new book of yours?” Booth then flagged a waitress and ordered a burger and fries of his own. Sweets turned red at Booth’s question.

When Booth and Brennan had told him, in this same diner no less, that the Bureau had split them up because of the trial, Sweets panicked. Over the last three months, he felt like he had made real progress with them. They were more willing to discuss any issues that they had with each other, and the Bureau seemed satisfied with the reports that Sweets gave them.

On a personal level, Sweets felt himself becoming closer to them and, by extension, their co-workers at the Jeffersonian. He knew it was a bit questionable for him to get so personally involved with the lives of two of his patients. But Brennan and Booth and everyone else at the Jeffersonian were just so…different, so extraordinary. The normal rules didn’t apply, and Sweets couldn’t help but be drawn into their world. Besides, getting close to them seemed to be the only way he able to build a therapeutic relationship with them.

But was it just about therapy at this point?

“About that,” Sweets finally answered as the waitress left with Booth’s order. “It was just a proposal. I haven’t informed the Bureau of my idea. So don’t feel obligated to accept if you or Doctor Brennan don’t want to do it.”

“Uh-huh,” Booth said still giving him a look. Sweets had recently learned to recognize that look: Booth was analyzing him like he would a suspect.

 _‘Great, he’s treating talks with me like an interrogation,’_ Sweets thought. _‘And I’m sure that I’m doing a fiercely wretched job at hiding anything from him.’_ The two of them sat in awkward silence for a little while. Soon the waitress brought Booth his food. He thanked her and he took a couple bites before leaning toward Sweets.

“What kind of a stunt were you trying to pull in that courtroom?” he asked his voice grave. Sweets flinched.

“What do you mean?” he asked, nervous.

“Don’t,” Booth said. “Don’t try to dodge me with your questions or your ‘shrinkiness’. Be straight with me.” He jammed a couple fries into his mouth and finished them before leaning closer yet.

“Why did you say the stuff you did to Max’s lawyer?”

Sweets gulped; he wasn’t too sure about what Booth thought about what Brennan did to save her father. He had figured out what she was trying to do while watching her during Cam’s and Hodgins’ testimonies. He decided to go along with it, but now he was wondering if he made the right decision.

“Max’s lawyer wanted an assessment of Doctor Brennan’s personality in relation to her ability to be able to commit murder,” Sweets said. “I was representing the FBI and I was under oath. I had no choice but to answer.

“Uh-huh,” Booth said again. Sweets was learning to hate that sound. “Interesting how you decided to answer, wasn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well that lawyer…he was clearly trying to get you to say that Bones was capable of murder,” Booth said, leaning back in his chair. “It was interesting how you both answered his question and didn’t answer his question.” Booth ate some more of his burger while Sweets shifted in his chair.

“The ability to rationalize and compartmentalize all of your feelings and actions can be a dangerous thing for many people,” Sweets said.

“But you don’t think it is for Bones, do you?” Booth questioned with a penetrating stare. Sweets looked down at his plate.

“No,” he answered without looking up.

“You knew,” Booth said. “You knew even before I did what she was trying to do and you played along.”

“Yes.”

“Why Sweets?”

“She was doing what she thought was necessary to save her father…I…I can respect that.”

“What are you saying?” Booth asked. “Are you saying that if your father had murdered a member of the FBI, you would be willing to implicate yourself for it?” Sweets’ mind flashed for a moment over the memories of the man he knew as his father: an intelligent, gentle, loving man who had just died about a year ago. When he looked up, Booth blinked at the look of resolve on his face.

“Yes,” he said. “I would have done anything to save him.” Booth sighed.

“Never mind, Sweets,” he said, taking a sip of his soda. I think it was pretty clear throughout the trial where your sympathies were anyway.” Sweets gulped at that.

“Agent Booth, whatever I said during the trial…I want you to know that it has nothing to do with…”

“Stop,” Booth said, raising a hand. “I remember all that stuff you said about Max. About how he could have been a great leader and all. Bones probably missed it, but I could see what you were trying to do.”

“Max Keenan is an extraordinary man,” Sweets insisted. “I imagine that Doctor Brennan gained some of her strength and willpower from him.”

“But that isn’t the picture Caroline was trying to paint of him,” Booth said, after finishing his burger. “She didn’t want Max Keenan, great man; she wanted Max Keenan, psychopath.” Sweets crossed his arms over his chest.

“I stand by my assessment.”

“Calm down,” Booth chuckled. “I meant what I said in the courtroom. You may be wrong about Bones, but you are very good at what you do.”

“Thank you,” Sweets blushed. “I…I appreciated what you said in there.” Booth nodded and ate a couple more fries.

“Aren’t you going to eat your food?” he said, waving a hand at Sweets’ plate.

“Sure, I guess,” Sweets said, picking up his burger and taking a bite. He still felt unsure about this conversation, and every bite seemed dry in his mouth.

“Relax Sweets,” Booth said. “Don’t lapse into your habit of not eating when something is bothering you.” Sweets tilted his head at him, intrigued.

“What makes you think I do that?” Booth gave him a half-hearted smile.

“April. The night she broke up with you. I remember how I practically had to force food down your throat.”

Sweets nodded. That had been one of the worst nights that he had had in the past year. He knew that the relationship wasn’t working out; it shouldn’t have bothered him so much when she dumped him.

But his feelings were still raw because of the death of his parents. In fact, that was part of the reason he couldn’t fully commit to April; he was still trying to recover from that loss. With her subsequent rejection of him, Sweets began to wonder if he would ever get over that pain.

He knew that he could never truly convey to Booth how grateful he was that he picked up on that pain and tried to comfort him with a night of bowling and a late dinner. On that night, Sweets finally saw the possibility that he could belong somewhere again.

“I’m fine, Agent Booth,” he said. He took a huge bite of his burger and chewed dramatically.

“Sweets, do you still want to write that book?” Booth asked. Sweets choked a little on his latest bite, but quickly recovered with a drink of his water.

“Like I said, it was just a thought. I’m sorry I was so rude at the courthouse when I retracted my offer.” Booth shook his head, and Sweets sighed.

The truth was he had been flustered at the time. Booth had seen right through his rather impulsive decision to write that book. Sweets was scared, embarrassed, and a little irritated that he was able to figure out so easily that he wanted to spend more time with them.  He reacted the same way he did many times before in his life when made to confront how much he needed someone: he pushed away. It was a destructive habit, and Sweets knew it. But his early childhood made it difficult for him to trust people enough to be able to admit to them that he needed them.

"I talked it over with Bones,” Booth said, derailing Sweets’ train of thought. “She says ok and I say great.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” Booth grinned at the way Sweets’ face lit up. “Now our terms still stand: we agree to the let you study us and the weekly sessions, if you agree to profile for our cases and help with interrogations when needed. That work for you?”

“Done,” Sweets smiled. Inwardly, he realized that he just committed to a lot of extra work, including a book that he hadn’t completely worked out yet. But that didn’t seem to matter right now.

Booth swiftly finished the rest of his fries and gulped down the rest of his soda in one swig.

“Good,” he said, still grinning. He sat the empty glass down on the table and stood up.  “Now, how about the two of us head over to the Founding Fathers? I think Bones is still there drinking with the rest of the squints.”

“Are you sure?” Sweets said. “I kind of ducked out of it before saying that I was busy.”

“Well maybe you were busy before, but you’re not now, right?” Sweets shook his head and stood up as well. “Come on, pay the bill and I’ll meet you over there.” Sweets watched as Booth strolled out of the dinner, leaving him stuck with the check. Again.

Sweets laughed as he pulled out his wallet to cover the two checks and tips. It may have been irritating, but he was enjoying his day to much now to really care.


	2. Painful Mistakes, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next two chapters take place right after The Wannabe in the Weeds and go up to The Pain in the Heart.

In the offices of the FBI building, it was mostly quiet and dark. However, there was one office that was illuminated by a single dim lamp and the glow of a couple computer monitors. And there was a sound coming from that office. The sound of crying.

Sweets was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands trying to stop his tears. Three hours ago, he had been in a festive mood, sitting in the Cracker Box karaoke bar with Booth and everyone else from the Jeffersonian. They had all gathered for a night of entertainment starting with what was sure to be an exhilarating performance of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by none other than Doctor Temperance Brennan.

It was Booth's idea, and Sweets agreed that it was a good one. The two of them had met for coffee and pie at the Royal Diner. There Booth told him all about his plan.

_'We'll invite Cam and all the squints,' Booth grinned. 'It'll be great.'_

_'Awesome,' Sweets said. 'And I can do my rendition of "Lime In The Coconut".'_

_'Wait, you sing too?' Booth said, cocking his head at him._

_'I'll have you know that my singing won me much fame in college.'_

_'All right, you're on Sweets. As soon as Bones finishes, you're getting up there.'_

_'Trust me, you will not be disappointed,' Sweets smiled._

Now sitting in his darkened office, Sweets thought about how he had been looking forward to this evening all week. He was curious about how good Brennan's singing was, and he was intrigued by the chance to see her in a very unconventional setting. But more than that, he was looking forward to having a chance to spend some time with her and Booth and with Brennan's co-workers. Up to this point, he had mainly spent time with just Booth and Brennan, mostly Booth. However, he had been fascinated by Cam, Angela, Hodgins, and Zack for a while, and had wanted an excuse to spend time with them socially. Even if they all mocked him quite a bit.

Sweets brushed at the tears that had been running down his face. Right now, he found it hard to believe that he could have ever been excited about tonight.

He remembered vaguely hearing someone calling out Booth's name, but he had been entranced with Brennan's performance, as was most everyone else. Watching her dance about while singing, Sweets couldn't help but smile. _'Her mother wasn't lying about her being as good as Cyndi Laupher,'_ he thought.  He even found himself bouncing back and forth to the music while he watched.

 _'Booth was right, this is great. But how in the world am I going to be able to follow this?_ '

Then he heard the shot.

It had pierced through all the other noise in the room, stopping it instantly. Sweets' first reaction had been to duck. His second one was to look for Booth. To his horror, he saw Booth staggering to the ground, a stain of crimson seeping into his shirt.

In what seemed like slow motion, Sweets saw Brennan leap down from the stage, kneel beside Booth, and pick up his gun to shoot Pam Nunnan dead. He knew now that this all happened in a matter of seconds, but he had been in shock at the time. He was actually waiting for Booth to get up and scold Brennan for firing his gun because of all the paperwork that it would entail.

But Booth wasn't getting up.

_'Zack, call 911,'_

Hodgins said that before going over to kick Pam's gun away. Looking back on it now, Sweets was impressed with the way Hodgins had taken charge of the situation. Everyone else, including him, had been too shocked to do anything but stand there. Other than Brennan who was trying desperately to stop Booth's bleeding.

Sweets trembled as he remembered that: Booth laying on the ground, gasping and Brennan yelling at him to be all right. While watching that scene in front of him, Sweets had felt his breathing quicken and his line of vision narrow. Fortunately, the quick arrival of the EMTs distracted him before he could get anywhere close to a real panic attack. It still felt unreal, like some sort of nightmare, as he watched them carry Booth out of the club with Brennan following him. Seconds later the ambulance sped off toward the hospital.

He was so locked in concentration that he jumped when Cam touched his arm to get his attention.

 _‘Sweets, why don’t you ride with us to the hospital?’_ she said her voice low, and her eyes shiny. He had just nodded and let her guide him out of the building. They all loaded into Angela’s van; no one said a word the whole trip.

It was another quiet vigil in the waiting room. No one wanted to vocalize what everyone was thinking. Eventually, Brennan came out to join them. She had droned on about the exact nature of Booth’s injury and the type of surgery he was going to have. Sweets tried to pay attention. He knew that this was Brennan’s way of coping with what happened: to simply analyze the situation and compartmentalize it rather than express her feelings.

_‘No…that’s not really true. The way she responded in the bar…’_

Sweets reached over for the box of tissues in his office. Instead of using the one he pulled out, he wrung it around in his fingers, causing rips to form.

Hours later they had received the news: Booth didn’t survive the surgery. Angela immediately started crying and Hodgins held her. Cam and Zack sat in stunned silence, looks of disbelief on their faces. Brennan seemed to show the least response of all; she simply sat down and tried to not meet anyone’s eyes.

Sweets had been standing in a corner of the room when the news came. He had been watching over everyone, trying to be ready if someone needed counseling. Although what he really wanted was to distract himself from his own feelings. When the word came about Booth’s death, he found himself suddenly unable to handle the fallout of everyone’s feelings. Including his own. In that moment of shock, a thought entered his head.

_‘If they had been willing to listen to you, this would not have happened.’_

_‘It’s your fault that they won’t.’_

Sweets slipped away from the hospital. Away from all the people he could no longer face.

He had walked the streets for the longest time. He felt numb, unable to believe that a night of frivolity had led to this. He found himself standing in front of the FBI building, and decided to go in under the guise of work. He even pulled out some of his current files and booted up his computers in anticipation of working.

But not long after he began to type up his first profiling report, he paused.

_‘What am I doing? Why am I doing this now?’_

_‘It’s not like they listen to your reports.’_

That thought made him give up what he was doing and put his head down to weep. Which is where he was now.

Pam Nunnan. As Booth was interviewing her, Sweets could sense that there was something off about her. It was a combination of his years of training and the instinctive ability he had always had to sense evil. While listening to her answers to Booth’s questions, he became convinced that she was not just neurotic, but dangerous as well. Sweets thought that Booth might have picked up on this too with his excellent selection of questions for her.

_‘I shouldn’t have let Booth touch her. I saw that look on Pam’s face afterwards.’_

The moment Booth had touched her shoulder to calm her, Sweets grew concerned. Watching that faraway look form in her eye, he knew that something was wrong. If he had been in the interrogation room with him, he would not have let Booth touch her. It wasn’t really Booth’s fault: comforting people, even people like her, was simply a manifestation of his character. And for all his insight into people, Booth did not have Sweets’ experience in dealing with insane patients.

‘ _He trusted you to bring your insight into handling mentally unstable criminals. It was your job to make sure nothing happened.’_

But after Pam was eliminated as a potential suspect for Tommy Sour’s murder, Booth’s suspicions about her seemed to vanish.

_‘All those gifts…and showing up in the middle of the night in her underwear. It’s all very dangerous.’_

Sweets had chaffed a bit when Booth teased him that way. He did his best to let the matter drop and cheer up. He knew that Booth liked to pick on him sometimes, but it wasn’t malicious. He remembered how Booth thanked him and patted his shoulder as he guided him out of his office. It hadn’t been a condescending gesture, but an affectionate one.

Sweets looked to see that the tissue he was holding had fallen to pieces. He threw it away and pulled out another one.

_‘Why didn’t I try harder to warn Booth? He would have listened to me. Even when the others don’t listen, he at least gives my thoughts consideration.’_

He suddenly thought of the current Gormogon case. Sweets knew that Brennan did not want or need his profiling work on it. In fact, she had acted upset that Booth consulted with him. But Booth persisted; he gave Sweets the chance to share his findings. When finally faced with the fact that his conclusions matched the forensic evidence, the staff at the Jeffersonian, including Brennan, seemed to warm up to him a little.

However, he wouldn’t have gotten that far if Booth hadn’t believed in him and his abilities.

Sweets clenched his hands; the new tissue was squeezed into a ball.

When Booth told him about Pam’s visit to his office and her gift of socks, Sweets was worried that her behavior was escalating. She had fixated on Booth’s desire for individuality in his attire and was trying to cater to that. She was trying to force a bond between them.

His knuckles turned white while he thought about that in Brennan’s office. He had become more than a little annoyed when she had started laughing about Pam giving Booth socks.  He knew there was no way that Booth would take him seriously with her sitting there laughing. Sweets had made a mental note to talk to him later privately since he really didn’t want to disrupt things while the two of them were working on a case.

After Booth had arrested the actual murderer of Tommy Sour, he had taken Sweets out to the Royal Diner to tell him about the karaoke bar. After Booth relayed his plan, Sweets became serious.

_‘Have you heard from Pam again?’ he asked worried._

_‘Nah, haven’t heard from her at all,’ Booth said, scooping up some pie onto his fork. ‘Probably found someone else to fall in love with.’_

_‘Booth….Pam Nunnan would not give up her infatuation so easily,’ Sweets warned. ‘Did you give her back the socks?’_

_‘No…now hold on Sweets, I just didn’t have the heart to do that. I mean she was trying to get over Tommy, granted there was no relationship there, but he meant a lot to her. I’m sure that I was just some sort of re-bound thing, and she’s moved on.’_

_Sweets looked down at his plate; he didn’t agree at all, but he knew that when Booth made a decision about a person’s intent, it was very hard to change his mind._

_‘Just…if she contacts you again…in any way, please tell me. I don’t want this to get out of hand, for your sake.’ Booth nudged his arm, causing Sweets to look up._

_‘Ok, I promise I will, all right?’ Booth said. ‘I will let you know if I hear from her. Just, don’t worry about it.’_

_Sweets nodded and let Booth steer the conversation toward more jovial topics._

Sweets started to cry again.

_‘It’s not right…Booth was a good man, one of the best agents I’d ever treated: a man who cared about people and justice in equal measure.’_

_‘He has a son.’_

Sweets swallowed hard when he thought about Parker. Parker was about the same age Sweets was when he had been adopted. He thought about how important his father had been while growing up. Sweets knew that if it hadn’t been for him, he would not have made it to adulthood. He was still mourning his loss, and he was an adult when he died.

_‘Parker needs Booth…Granted he has his mother, but…a boy needs his father to care for him and guide him.’_

Sitting here now, Sweets was angry at himself.

_‘If I wasn’t so young…’_

_‘If I didn’t say things like “awesome” and make Star Wars references…’_

_‘If I were more detached and clinical in my demeanor…’_

_‘They would have taken me more seriously and would have listened to me. Then Booth wouldn’t be dead. He’d be laughing and enjoying himself with friends.’_

Suddenly, Sweets heard the sound of footsteps approaching his office. He yanked out a couple more tissues out of the box and wiped his face and blew his nose, trying to compose himself as fast as he could. He took a couple deep breaths to calm his voice just as there was a knock on his door. Shortly after the knock, a man in a dark suit came in with a file.

Sweets recognized the man as someone who worked in a more secretive section of the FBI. He then blinked when he remembered that he had seen this agent hanging around the front desk of the hospital where they had taken Booth. He hadn’t thought much about it at the time, but now he was suspicious.

“Doctor Sweets, I’m glad I was able to catch you in your office right now. We have something important to discuss. One of your patients.”

“You should know that my discussions and treatment of my patients is confidential,” Sweets said his tone neutral.

“It’s not anything like that,” the agent said brusquely. “One of the agents you are treating has to go into a deep undercover assignment. It’s a matter of national security. Part of his cover is that the general public thinks he’s been killed. Now, I have here a list of names from this agent of the people he wished to be told that he is not actually dead. We need you to go over this list and determine who would be the best people to contact with this knowledge.”

The man handed the file to Sweets.

“Remember, Doctor Sweets, this matter is about national security, and the fewer people that know the truth about this agent’s condition, the better.”

Sweets flipped open the file and when he read the name inside, it took every ounce of training he had to not react.

_‘Special Agent Seeley Booth.’_

 


	3. Painful Mistakes, part two

Sweets was in his apartment, sitting on his front room couch. He was growing increasingly frustrated with the piece of paper that he was staring at. He had been doing this for over two hours now, and he was no closer to figuring out what he was going to do with it.

The paper was the list of names that Booth had given to the Bureau of the people who he wanted to be informed that he wasn’t actually dead. Booth’s superiors had given the list to Sweets, and now it was up to him to decide who would be told and who wouldn’t.

After Sweets met with the agent who gave him the list, he came home and spent the next couple of hours trying to get over the shock of finding out that Booth was alive. He had felt angry, elated, confused and relieved all at the same time. His emotions were so jumbled; he had a hard time thinking straight. He eventually fell asleep on the couch and after sleeping for a couple hours, he called work to let them know that he wasn’t feeling well, and that he wouldn’t be in that day.  The truth was, though, that he needed a day to sort out his thoughts.

Sweets had gone back to bed and didn’t get up until afternoon. When he woke up, he felt like his head was stuffed with cotton. After making himself a simple, but filling lunch of sandwiches and soup, he sat back down on the couch and started to look through the file about Booth’s latest assignment.

The assassin he was going after was definitely a security risk. He had taken out two other agents and Booth was the only person who had even come close to catching him. Sweets looked over Booth’s report about the last time he encountered this man.

_‘He said to me that the only way I’d see him again was at my own funeral.’_

Another set of paperwork detailed the numerous, but futile attempts the FBI made to catch the assassin. It was as if he retired and completely disappeared after his last meeting with Booth. Sweets agreed with his assumption that this killer was simply biding his time. The profile spoke of a patient and determined man, whose only glaring flaw was his almost pathological need to outlive his “worthy opponents” like Booth. Sweets knew that the opportunity to actually get a chance to attend Booth’s funeral would be too much for that man to resist.

While he understood the reasoning behind this whole ruse, it did not make his current job any easier, because there was one name on the list in particular that he was grappling with.

_Doctor Temperance Brennan._

Brennan was rational and intelligent. She would be able to comprehend the seriousness of this undercover assignment and be able to react calmly. Her ability to compartmentalize, along with her reputation for doing so, would make her ideally suited for hiding her true feelings about Booth being alive. Plus, she had been entrusted with sensitive information in the past and was found to be very trustworthy and discreet.

 _‘So why am I so reluctant to mark her as someone that can be told the truth about all this?’_ Sweets kept asking himself.

He collapsed backward against his couch and sighed. He hated it when he couldn’t reason out why he felt the way he did about something. He kept turning it around in his mind, trying to come up with an answer, determined to come up with a reason for his hesitation. But he could not figure out where his doubts came from.

_‘I don’t understand. Psychologically speaking, Doctor Brennan is an ideal person to inform.’_

_‘Wait…psychologically?’_

Sweets sat back up.

_‘Yes…The FBI wants me to decide who should be told based on my psychological insight. A type of insight that the Bureau considers important.’_

Sweets knew that he was by far not the only clinical psychologist or profiler that the FBI employed. Even if he was one of the youngest. In fact there were entire sections of the Bureau dedicated to studying the psychology of criminals. The FBI clearly valued the type of work he did as much as the forensic work of the Jeffersonian.

_‘Society shapes who we are, not some toilet-training mishap.’_

All throughout that case, Brennan dismissed any possibility that Pam Nunan could be a dangerous person.

_‘It’s not funny.’_

_‘Then why am I laughing?’_

Sweets knew that Booth valued her opinion over the opinion of most others. If Brennan didn’t believe something, and Booth was on the fence about it, he was likely to side with her.

 _‘The fact that Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan were indifferent to Pam was just as dangerous as Pam herself,’_ he thought. _‘Especially since she had shown this sort of pathology before with Tommy Sour.’_

Sweets was growing angry again, but this time the anger was not directed at himself.

_‘Doctor Brennan is willfully ignoring an important method of investigating crime and criminals. And this issue will come up again, with the potential for a more tragic outcome. She needs to learn to open herself up more to feelings and intuition, something she’ll never do unless she is forced to.’_

Sweets sighed and picked up a pen. He began to mark the people he planned to put in a report as being the ones who could be trusted to learn the truth. When he got to Brennan’s name, he paused.

_‘Unless she is forced to?’_

_‘It would take a pretty extraordinary event to force Doctor Brennan to face her feelings, even a little.’_

_‘An event like Agent Booth’s death, perhaps?’_

With that question, a series of ideas quickly flooded Sweets’ head. They were coming a little too quickly and easily, but Sweets could not see the problem with that since he was still wrangling with his own frazzled feelings.

_‘After all I was told that the fewer people that know, the better. And Doctor Brennan could use this opportunity to re-evaluate her feelings and her conceptions about psychology.’_

_‘This is the perfect situation for all this to happen.’_

Decision made, Sweets crossed out Brennan’s name off the list of people to be informed.

* * *

 

A week had gone by and Sweets had resumed his daily routine as had everyone else at the Jeffersonian. He stopped by once in a while to check on Brennan, but was always swiftly brushed off by her despite his offer of counseling. Other than that, he had no real reason to stop by there anymore.

After his latest visit to Brennan, Sweets stood on the terrace that overlooked the rest of the lab and sipped some coffee. She had been rather terse with him, but otherwise, she showed very few outward signs of distress. Sweets could sense some turmoil in her, though. It would appear as a flicker in her eye, and would be gone in less than a second; nevertheless, it was still there.

Sweets was frustrated that she didn’t seem to be dealing with her feelings; she was merely deflecting them. Pushing them aside and burying herself deeper into her work.

 _‘If Agent Booth’s death is not enough to make her confront her emotions, then who knows if she will be able to move beyond a certain point,’_ he pondered.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the floor. He looked over to see Cam walking toward him.

“Doctor Saroyan, how are you?” he asked. Cam looked like she was going to say something, but stopped. After a moment, she tried again.

“Doctor Sweets, have you had lunch?” Sweets raised his eyebrow at that.

“Um…no.”

“Good. How about having lunch with me?”

* * *

 

Cam and Sweets sat together in the Founding Fathers bar at one of the tall tables toward the back. They did little more than exchange pleasantries at first while they ordered their food and waited for it to arrive. Once it arrived and they both ate a little of it, Cam sighed.

“Things haven’t been the same since Seeley…” she stopped and stabbed her fork at some of the lettuce in her salad. Sweets noted the use of Booth’s first name by her, something most people never did, and wondered if there was something more to their relationship.

“How does Doctor Brennan seem to be taking all this to you?” she asked. Sweets sat his silverware down and shook his head.

“While I can’t discuss anything that Doctor Brennan says to me as my patient, I can tell you that she is taking it much like I thought she would.” Cam nodded and took a couple more bites of salad before continuing.

“Angela’s been crying on and off,” she said. “Fortunately, Hodgins is there to comfort her, although he’s been more somber himself lately. Zack hasn’t said anything about it, but I expected that from him. He’s like Brennan that way.”

“And you?” Sweets asked.

“Excuse me.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were careful to leave yourself out when talking about how everyone is doing at the Jeffersonian,” he said. “Could it be because there are feelings that you are trying to deny, or at least hide from me?”

Cam gave him a dirty look and then took a sip of water.

“Looks like Booth was right about you,” she muttered. She stared at her plate and took a deep breath.

“Listen, I’ve known Seeley for many years, and what happened between us is in the past.”

Sweets was stunned that she was willing to share so much with him, but did his best to remain outwardly neutral.

“The relationship you had with Agent Booth, was it…?” Cam held up a hand to stop him.

“It’s in the past,” she said firmly. “All you need to know is that he was a dear friend who is missed deeply.” Sweets nodded; he could sense that the time to delve into that relationship would not be anytime soon.

“To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this, but Booth seemed to think that you were a good listener,” she said. “And it’s not like I can discuss it with the others.” Sweets tried hard to hide his pleasure at finding out that Booth considered him a good listener. Instead he gave Cam an intense gaze that made her blink a bit.

“You’re grappling with your own feelings about Agent Booth’s death, but you feel that you still need to maintain control in the lab.”

“Yes, exactly,” she said.

“But you find that hard to do since everyone around you is looking to each other, in their own way, to deal with their sense of grief and loss, and you feel separated from them by your position and duty. This difficulty is probably compounded by the fact that you knew Agent Booth longer than the others, and yet you cannot get the same kind of relief.”

Cam dropped her fork onto the table and leaned back in her chair. After a moment of her sitting silently and staring, Sweets grew concerned.

“Doctor Saroyan?” he said. Cam shook her head.

“Very…impressive,” she said softly. “I think I now know why Booth tries to work with you.”

“Thank you,” he said, making sure to not appear too pleased.

“Since you were able to figure all that out, I’m sure you’ve noticed how all this has affected Brennan.” Sweets started at that, but Cam didn’t notice.

“In what way do you mean?” he asked.

“Well today for instance, we were looking at some remains from 18th century England,” she said. “Brennan had already started to fill out her report stating cause of death when Zack pointed out a series of fractures on the hyoid bone. It completely conflicted with Brennan’s theory.”

“It’s not unusual to make small mistakes like that when under the sort of stress Doctor Brennan is under.”

“You don’t understand Sweets. I talked to Angela about it; she said that Brennan didn’t make these kinds of mistakes when her mother’s remains were discovered to be in Limbo at the Jeffersonian.”

“She found out about her mother’s death by finding her bones at the Jeffersonian?”

“Stop there, Doctor Sweets,” Cam said. “Now is not the time, and I am not the person that this discussion should involve. The point I’m trying to make is that Brennan was not her usual meticulous self. Granted, I’m sure she would have discovered her mistake on her own eventually. But what has me worried is the fact that Zack had to make it unavoidable for her to admit that she had made a mistake. Almost like something is driving her to see nothing but order in her work.”

_‘Or in her world.’_

As Cam’s words sunk in, Sweets felt his heart drop.

_‘What have I done?’_

_‘I let my anger and grief color my judgment when I decided to not tell Brennan the truth.’_

“Doctor Sweets?” Cam asked, concerned at how pale Sweets had become.

_‘She made a mistake is all. A mistake in judging Pam Nunan. And it’s my job to guide her in learning about these kinds of mistakes, and how to handle her feelings about them. Not to punish her for her mistakes.’_

_‘Like the feelings she had in that bar while watching Booth bleed to death.’_

Sweets stood up shakily. _‘_

_'She may have made a mistake about Pam, but I made a worse one in not telling her about Booth because I let my petty feelings get in the way.’_

He yanked out his wallet and placed a couple of twenties on the table.

“I…I’m sorry, I just remembered that I have an appointment to attend to,” he stammered. “Go ahead and use this toward the bill. If it’s not enough, I’ll just owe you.”

“Uh…ok,” Cam said confused. “Well thank you for letting me talk to you.” Sweets nodded and made a hasty exit.

* * *

 

Once he was back in his office, Sweets laid down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. His next patient was coming soon, and he was trying to clear his mind.

_‘Even if I wanted to tell her now, I can’t. I already gave my report and my word to the Bureau that I wouldn’t tell anyone that was not on that list. She won’t know the truth until Booth’s funeral.’_

Sweets felt his eyes cloud with tears.

_‘If I’m willing to make mistakes like this, how can I ever expect to be trusted by either of them? Or anyone around them for that matter?’_

 


	4. Misplaced Anger, part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next chapter take place during The Pain in the Heart.

For the first time since his parents had passed away, Doctor Lance Sweets was actually grateful that they couldn’t see him now. If they had, they would have seen their son, sitting in a jail cell, accused of aiding a vicious serial murderer. Worse yet, he had been put there by people who he had considered friends less than a month ago.

They would have been furious and heart-broken at the same time. As it stood now, Sweets just had to worry about his own thoughts and feelings.

He was also grateful for the small mercy of having a private cell. That way he could express how he felt and not have others watch him. He could be alone.

 _‘Alone_.’

That was the best word for how he felt right now. He hadn’t felt this alone since his mother and father died, leaving him an orphan. He was twenty-two when they died, a full grown adult. But he had felt like a lonely child again when he stood over their grave the first time.

And now he was alone again. Perhaps for good this time.

Sweets sat down on the hard, wooden bench along the wall, and began to contemplate the events that led him to this point.

* * *

 

It had started at Booth’s funeral. Well, the fake funeral that had been set up to lure that assassin out. Sweets had predicted that Brennan would react passionately to the realization that Booth wasn’t actually dead.

But he honestly did not expect her to hit him like that.

 _‘She’s not relieved…she’s angry,’_ Sweets had thought, worriedly. It did not bode well for the possibility that Brennan would re-evaluate her relationship with Booth. At least, not in any sort of positive light. He had begun to worry that the incident would put an unbearable strain on their partnership.

As it turned out though, they had bigger things to worry about.

* * *

 

Sweets swung his legs onto to the bench, and folded his knees to his chest. He crossed his arms over his knees and leaned forward to rest his head on his forearms.

In the midst of Booth and Brennan’s arguing after the pseudo-funeral, Zack had found a package in plain brown paper addressed to Brennan. It turned out to be a box with a mandible and some silver screws inside. It didn’t take long to figure out what it meant.

Gormogon. He had killed someone else.

And he was going to keep killing until he and his apprentice were identified and incarcerated.

Sitting in his cell, Sweets gave a bitter laugh.

After the discovery in the lab, Sweets had been excited to learn that the FBI was going to have him handle the press this time. At that point, Sweets had missed his parents again. He knew they would have been excited to see their son, the doctor, on TV, on the trail of a serial killer. Excited and proud. He had tried to imagine how they would have responded and wished that someone could share in that with him in some small measure.

_‘Did you see me on TV? No one has said anything about me being on TV?’_

* * *

 

Sweets pressed his face into his forearms; ignoring the growing ache the hard bench was causing his back. Right now, he felt stupid for being so giddy about all that stuff. He supposed he had let himself get carried away because he was happy that Booth was back, and that while there was tension between him and Brennan, it didn’t seem to threaten their partnership. Sweets didn’t realize how much he missed being around them until he listened to their playful bickering in the lab.

Thanks to Gormogon though, things swiftly fell apart.

First, there was the explosion in the lab. Sweets shuddered now when he thought about it. He had begun to feel at home in the Medico-Legal lab, and that explosion had scared him. When it happened, his first instinct had been to crouch down behind Booth. But then he pushed down his fear, and ran with Booth and Brennan to see what had happened.

Sweets had only gotten a glimpse of Zack’s injuries, but that was enough. He could see how horribly Zack’s hands had been mangled and burned. While everyone but Cam stood there in shock at what had happened, Sweets was determined to do more than just stand there in an emergency this time.

He ran to Brennan’s office and called 911. After hanging up and heading toward the entrance to guide the EMTs when they arrived, what had just happened began to sink in.

_‘Zack…a brilliant mind…now probably crippled for life…why did this happen?’_

* * *

 

Back in the present, Sweets sniffed again. He didn’t know Zack that well, but he seemed like a good, if somewhat awkward person, and he knew that there was a strong mentor-student relationship between him and Brennan. In fact, everyone at the lab seemed to look out for Zack and tried to help him through life.

But things only got worse from there.

While canceling all his appointments for the week so that he could focus all his attention on the case and on helping everyone at the Jeffersonian, Sweets felt a hand suddenly place a vice-like grip on his arm. After dragging him to Brennan’s office, Sweets felt his heart sink as he realized that his worst fear was coming to light.

Booth found out that it was him that decided to keep Brennan in the dark about his assignment.

_‘Slug him,’ Booth had growled._

Sweets had tried bluffing his way out of it. While he hated lying to them, he was sure that with tensions running so high, they would not be willing to be forgiving or understanding. He was desperate to not lose his chance to feel like a part of something again.

_‘It was a national security issue, the fewer people that knew…the safer he would be…’_

Thinking about it now, Sweets felt his eyes water up. Booth had seen through his excuses and suspected right then and there that there was something else more at play than national security.

_‘There’s got to be something else going on here….’_

_‘If Cam had interrupted us to show us the vault, Booth would have figured it out for sure. He would have seen right through me and figured out how stupid and selfish I had been,’_ Sweets mused. ‘ _But now…I almost wish he had…’_

They would have yelled at him. Demanded another therapist. Told him that they never wanted to see him again.  It would have hurt. A lot. But it would have been better than what he was feeling now.

Sweets finally let the tears leak out of his eyes while he thought about the missteps he had taken that had landed him into this place.

* * *

 

First it was with Brennan.

While walking with her to the vault, Sweets had been startled when she stopped him and confronted him.

_‘You think I don’t know an experiment when I see one?’_

Sweets didn’t know if he should be shocked, insulted or bemused as he listened to her theory of how he had set up some sort of elaborate experiment just to test their reactions.

_‘Leave it to Brennan to interpret an emotional and petty act as a rational and planned out idea like an experiment.’_

He didn’t dispute her; he felt he didn’t have the right to defend himself after what he did. But then she surprised him again by letting him know that she didn’t plan on telling Booth about her ideas. In some ways that unnerved Sweets even more than her ideas about him.

_‘She couldn’t be forgiving me….could she?’_

* * *

 

But then it was with Booth.

With the revelations that the explosion was simply a diversion for Gormogon to take back the silver skeleton and that it had to have been an employee of the Jeffersonian, Sweets began to frantically search through the personal files of all the employees of the Medico-Legal lab for someone who could fit the profile of Gormogon or his apprentice.

‘ _If they’re willing to set up an explosion that could have killed someone just as a distraction, then they’ll stop at nothing to get what they want,’_ Sweets thought. _‘Next time it could be someone else on Booth and Brennan’s team…maybe even Booth and Brennan themselves.’_

Sweets grew frustrated. He didn’t want anything like what happened to Zack to happen to either of them, but he was drawing a blank as to a possible suspect. He needed some way to help Booth focus his search.

_‘Forgive me if my faith in the Bureau isn’t absolute.’_

Hodgins’ words had come back to him, almost as an afterthought. But now, he couldn’t stop thinking about them. He looked over Hodgins’ file again. He didn’t really strike Sweets as a killer…maybe a little off…a little paranoid…Besides Zack was his friend…

_‘But he knew about the secret societies’_

_‘He’s always shown distain for the government.’_

_‘He easily figured out Gormogon’s methods and patterns.’_

_‘He would have known how to set up an explosion like that.’_

_‘It has to be him…there’s no one else who makes sense…’_

Sweets rushed to the diner to tell Booth and Brennan his theory. He was surprised at first that Booth seemed see some credence to his ideas. Eager to help and buoyed by the idea that there may have been something to this idea after all, Sweets pushed harder. But then, Brennan shut him down and stalked out. Booth had grown impatient with him too.

_‘Don’t you know by now that you can’t rush her?’_

* * *

 

In his cell, Sweets sat himself up and ground his jaw and balled his hands into fists.

He realized just then that he had planted the seeds that led to this point.

Brennan thought he was a cold, calculating experimenter.

Booth thought he was a manipulative shrink.

Brennan thought he was trying to implicate a trusted co-worker and friend.

Booth thought that he didn’t care about their feelings.

_‘After everything I did…why was I surprised when they confronted me in the diner?’_

* * *

 

' _Where were you after the explosion?’_

It didn’t take Sweets long to realize why Booth and Brennan had tracked him down to the Royal Diner. It certainly wasn’t to consult with him.

 _'Why was I sarcastic with them?’_ Sweets thought as he started to sniffle again. _‘They were just doing their job. Trying to protect everyone and catch a killer.’_

But deep down, Sweets knew exactly why he had responded the way he did to their questions: because he felt everything that he had tried to build with them in the last year falling apart around him. In a perverse way, it seemed easier to act blasé and like he didn’t care than to admit how much their accusations hurt him. They were becoming just another set of people in a long line of others that were going to reject him.

 _‘They already think the worst of me,’_ he had thought at the time. _‘It’s just icing on the cake that they think I’m some murderer’s apprentice.’_

Caught up in his own pain, Sweets had lost sight of the seriousness of the situation and Booth’s determination to catch a suspect.

‘ _I could lock him up for seventy-two hours...’_

Fear growing in the pit of his stomach, Sweets had had to struggle to keep his voice even as he tried to reason with Booth; despite that, he knew that he started to quaver as his eyes started to sting.

Sweets didn’t want to believe it; Booth may be angry with him, but he didn’t really think he was capable of murder…did he?

_‘Am I going to need my cuffs?’_

That look on Booth’s face said it all: there was no anger, no regret, no playful teasing. At that moment he didn’t see Sweets as a co-worker, as his therapist or even his friend.

He saw him as a suspect. Nothing more.

_‘Yeah you are going to need your cuffs because I’m not about to make this easy for you.’_

Sweets had said that out of grief and anger, but there was no real strength to it. He did not put up even the slightest resistance as Booth cuffed him and led him out of the diner. He remained silent as they drove to the FBI building and while Booth processed him.

After shutting him into his cell, Booth turned to him.

_‘If you have anything…anything at all to confess, now would be the time to do it, Sweets.’_

But Sweets remained perfectly still and silent, standing in the middle of his cell. He was too numb to move or even think. After a minute or two Booth shook his head and walked away.

* * *

 

Now, hours later Sweets was no longer numb. Now he put his head back down and wept as he thought about everything that had probably been destroyed: his career, his reputation, and any possibility of building relationships with people he admired and respected.

People he had come to think of as friends.

Sweets wiped at his eyes. His father had told him once that he had a good heart and that he would find people who would see that and who would care for him after his parents were gone. Right now though, he was beginning to doubt that.

Right now he wished Brennan had slugged him.

It would have been a lot less painful than this.


	5. Misplaced Anger, part two

He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but all the sudden, Doctor Lance Sweets jerked awake at a sound coming from outside his cell. He sat up and blinked a couple times to see a guard opening up the door and beckoning at him.

“Come on. You’re free to go,” the guard said. Sweets rubbed his eyes and tilted his head. He had been in jail for over forty hours now, and had barely slept that whole time. Thus, his brain was not functioning at full speed.

“Huh?” he said furrowing his eyebrows. The guard gave a frustrated gust of breath.

“I said you’re free to go,” he repeated. “Just got the call from Special Agent Booth. Seems they found that psycho’s apprentice and he and that scientist chick are confronting him at the hospital. That means you’re off the hook.”

Sweets slowly stood up, wincing from the ache in his lower back from sitting on that bench for hours. He was glad to get out of that cell, but he couldn’t help but wonder who Gormogon’s apprentice turned out to be.

 _‘He said Booth was going to the hospital to confront him,’_ Sweets mused silently. _‘Why is he going there? Are they visiting Zack right now? Maybe it’s Hodgins after all….’_

But just as he reached the cell door, he stopped and frowned.

‘No…Booth wouldn’t confront a violent suspect in the hospital where too many people could get hurt…he’d waiting until they were leaving. Besides they still need the mandible, so they’ll try….’

Sweets stopped in mid-thought. Suddenly all the events over the past couple of months came back to him in a rush of memories….and a new picture began to form. The guard became quizzical as he watched the psychologist develop an intense, penetrating stare. It made him uncomfortable and he looked away from Sweets.

Sweets collapsed back onto the bench as his thoughts finally organized themselves.

_‘What if Booth went to the hospital because he couldn’t catch Gormogon’s apprentice anywhere else?’_

_‘But that would only be true if…’_

_‘Zack...It couldn’t be Zack…could it?’_

“Hey do you want me to leave you in there, or do you plan on getting out of there sometime today?” the guard snapped impatiently.

* * *

 

Sweets went back to his apartment to shower and change suits. He then headed straight for the hospital where Zack was recovering. While rode in a taxi over there, he mulled over this newest revelation in his mind, turning it around over and over again.

But no matter how many times he turned it around, he still couldn’t believe it. Zack just didn’t strike him as a killer. Sweets shook his head.

_‘That means that Zack engineered that explosion in the lab…he had to have known what could happen to him…was Gormogon really so effective at bending people to his will that he was able to convince a rational, intelligent person like Zack that killing and eating people was a desirable thing to do? Could Zack believe in him so much that he’d be willing to sacrifice himself just to get the skeleton back for his master?’_

Sweets frowned and shook his head again.

_‘It had to have been his time in Iraq….All the violence, the isolation, the senselessness…it had to have perverted his ability to reason logically.’_

* * *

 

The taxi finally pulled up to the hospital and he jumped out and paid the driver before walking in. As he walked down the corridors, he saw Cam sitting on a chair, staring at the wall. Clutched in one of her hands was a book on theoretical math. Sweets stopped and watched her.

_‘She must have been visiting Zack…that look on her face…it must be true.’_

He walked over to her.

“Doctor Saroyan?” he said softly. Despite his gentle tone, she jumped violently at the sound of his voice. She quickly got to her feet.

“Doctor Sweets…I,” she averted her gaze from him, and Sweets tilted his head.

“I…I’m…I need to get back to the lab.” With that, she swiftly walked away, careful to not look him in the eye. Sweets stood there for a moment, confused by her behavior. He was sure that some of it was shock at finding out about Zack…but still…

He kept walking and eventually saw the glass doors leading to Zack’s room. There, Sweets could see Brennan sitting on the bed, leaning close to Zack, their faces touching. Booth was standing nearby, seeming to be fighting the urge to pace. Sweets stood there watching them.

He knew that of everyone in the lab, Brennan was the closest to Zack. Perhaps even closer than Hodgins, who he lived with. He had started out as her grad assistant and moved on to become her co-worker. Over that time, they had developed a strong, supportive mentor-student relationship. Sweets believed that she saw some of herself in Zack and that she enjoyed helping to guide his future as a valued colleague in the field of forensic anthropology.

_‘This has to be difficult for her…to see someone she believed in so much become twisted by a sociopath.’_

Sweets decided to stay outside the room and backed up down the hallway to give them some privacy.

_‘I shouldn’t be there…not with all the tension between me and them…’_

Instead he sat down in the chair that Cam was sitting in. He still had a hard time believing that Zack could be so cold and calculating. He just didn’t sense that from him.

After a few more minutes, he heard Booth walking out toward him while talking on the phone. He sounded like he was ordering some background checks and was demanding that a team be rounded up so they could storm Gormogon’s hideout.

“We’ll need to be ready in about two hours…yeah…I’ll be there in a little while…Right.” Booth then hung up and he couldn’t hide his shock when he saw Sweets sitting there. The psychologist stood up to face him.

“Agent Booth,” he said somberly. “I…I’m sorry. It’s true, isn’t it? It’s Zack?”

Booth nodded, still looking uneasy. Sweets hung his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “Where’s Doctor Brennan? Is she all right? I…I know this can’t be easy for her…”

Booth walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Sweets cringed; it was too much like that night in the diner when Booth asked him if he was going to need his cuffs.

Suddenly Booth grabbed his arm and hauled him into a room that was empty except for a pair of beds and closed the door behind him. He then turned back toward Sweets, his face unreadable. Sweets swallowed hard.

“What are you doing here, Sweets?” Booth asked him. “You’ve just spent two days in jail, and the first thing that you decide to do when you get out is come here. Why?”

“The guard said that you figured out who Gormogon’s apprentice was and that you were coming here,” he responded, his gaze on the tiled floor again. “I…I figured that it had to be Zack so I came here because I…” Sweets gulped and began to fidget with a stray thread on his suit jacket.

“Because why?”

“Because…I wanted to help,” Sweets murmured. “I know that Zack meant a lot to all of you, and the idea that he could be involved in something like this has to come as a great shock. So I thought…if any of you needed to talk or…or anything…”

“Let me get this straight,” Booth said, interrupting him and moving closer to Sweets. “After being wrongfully jailed for almost two days for being Gormogon’s apprentice, the first thing you want to do once you get out is come here to see if we need help in dealing with the discovery of Gormogon’s actual apprentice?”

Sweets began to back away, his head still down.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be here…this was a bad idea.”

Booth grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

“Listen Sweets…that thing you did, not telling Bones that I was still alive when I went undercover. I know she’s angry with you…hell, she’s still a little angry with me. And while she’s pretty much gotten over it with me, it going to take a little longer for her to get over it with you. But it will happen eventually…”

“It’s ok,” Sweets said shaking his head. “What I did…if you want a new therapist, I completely…” Booth squeezed his arm.

“Stop…just stop it there Sweets,” he said. Booth took a deep breath before continuing.

“I need you to listen to me carefully because I’m only going to say this once and this is not something we are ever going to discuss in therapy. Understand?”

Sweets nodded, but he also blinked hard in shock.

‘ _Wait…”going to discuss in therapy”...Does he still want me to continue as his therapist…?’_

“You and I…we’re not like Bones, Hodgins or even Zack,” Booth said. “They see things in a rational, logical way. They reason their way out of everything, and sometimes they miss the big picture. It’s not wrong…it’s just different. But the two of us…we’re instinctive…we follow our gut…we feel a situation out. And sometimes, we let our gut reaction take over when it shouldn’t.” Booth sighed and looked down.

“When that happens we do stuff, that deep down, we know that we shouldn’t do,” he said. “But we do it anyway…maybe we have some kind of misguided good intentions for doing it, but it doesn’t make it right.” Booth put his hand back on Sweets’ shoulder, and Sweets finally looked up at him.

“I don’t need to know why you did what you did, nor do you need my reasons for acting the way I did,” Booth said, his voice quiet. “It won’t do either of us any good to go over that now. I just want to say sorry…for not trusting you”

“It’s ok Agent Booth,” Sweets said, looking him in the eye. “I understand…and I’m sorry for what I did as well.” Booth patted his shoulder a couple times.

“There…now let’s move on,” he said. “Because we have a lot more important things to worry about now…like nailing Gorgonzola for good so he can’t eat anyone else.”

“Agent Booth,” Sweets said clearing his throat. “I…I was thinking that Zack will probably need counseling…once this is all over, and I…I’d like to be the one to treat him. I’d like to see if I could get through to him.”

Booth didn’t smile, but his eyes were warm as they regarded the psychologist.

“Thanks Sweets,” he said. “I’m sure that even though she hates psychology, Bones will appreciate it as well.” Booth felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out to read the text he had been sent. After reading it and nodding, he jammed the phone back into his pocket and headed for the door.

“I’ve got to go,” he said. “They figured out where the hideout is from what Zack told us. We’ve got a team together and I need to meet with them after I tell Bones what’s going on.” Sweets nodded.

“I’ll stay here in case anyone needs to talk to me or for whatever,” he said. Just before Booth left the room, Sweets spoke up again.

“Agent Booth…I know how you feel about taking lives but….I’ve read the Gormogon files over and over again. I can tell you that he will not be willing to be taken in peacefully. In fact, I can tell you that he would get great pleasure out of taking out a couple of agents as a show of his power. I...I think that you should be prepared to use deadly force and that you need to be careful.” Booth nodded.

“I understand,” he said grimly. He then left Sweets alone in the room. Sweets sat down onto one of the beds.

He was both amazed and grateful that Booth took the time to talk things over with him, especially with everything that was going on. Sweets then shook himself.

He knew that this was not the time to worry about his feelings. The people at the Jeffersonian: Angela, Hodgins, Cam and Brennan, they were all going to be upset, hurt and angry about this. Zack himself clearly needed some kind of intervention. And Booth may have to take another life. At the very least, he would have to help everyone deal with the fallout.

There was going to be a lot of misdirected feelings and people saying and doing things that they didn’t mean in the throes of their grief. But Sweets decided that he was going to help them see their way through it.

No matter how long that took.


	6. Transparent Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after The Pain in the Heart but before Yanks in the UK.

Doctor Lance Sweets sat in front of his computer on his desk and sighed. He had just completed typing up the report that contained his initial evaluation of Doctor Zack Addy.

During his first interview with him, it became clear to Sweets that Gormogon had tapped into Zack’s disillusionment from his time in Iraq, and had used it to convince him of the evil that secret societies were inflicting on the world. Evil like what he had seen in the desert.

Sweets shook his head. Since Zack had withdrawn from his friends to a degree after returning to the lab, he no longer had as strong of a support system as he once did, and that proved to be his undoing. Without the positive influences of people like Angela or Cam, or the opportunity to reason things out with Brennan or Hodgins, Zack just could not cope with the confusion that resulted from his time with the military.

He was seeking answers, and Gormogon had been ready to give them to him.

This case saddened Sweets simply because it could have been so easily avoided. Now, a person who had so much to give to the world was lost. It reminded Sweets of why he chose this profession: to help people who just needed a little guidance and understanding to find their way to what they were meant to be in life.

Sweets saved his report so that it could be printed and submitted tomorrow morning to his superiors. He knew that treating Zack would be difficult due to his hyper-rational way of viewing things and his reluctance to express his feelings.

 _‘So much like Doctor Brennan,’_ he mused. _‘And yet not.’_

This new thought intrigued Sweets. Even though he had been seeing her in therapy for about a year, he felt like he was still learning new things about her all the time. He was now curious as to what it was that gave Brennan that ‘reverence for life’ that seemed to keep her from taking her ability to compartmentalize to a dangerous level.

But his train of thought was abruptly halted by the sound of his office door opening and closing. He turned to see Cam walking over to the couch and sitting down.

Ordinarily he would be slightly irritated that she barged in without an appointment, but this time he was bemused. In the aftermath of the Gormogon case, he had observed many reactions from the others, but hers were the most confusing.

Booth and Brennan resumed their sessions with him, as if nothing happened. As expected they were reluctant to talk about Zack or Gormogon, but no more reluctant than usual. However, it was clear to Sweets that their partnership was giving Brennan the support she needed to get through this. Booth had met with him a couple times for lunch. Not to talk with him about the topics Sweets wanted to pursue, no that would be too easy. But he didn’t really mind that; he was happy that he and Booth were able to re-build the friendship that had started to show itself around the time this whole mess started.

Angela was starting to talk to him more. She would track him down at the diner while he was on lunch and just start talking while snitching some of his food. Of course she was sad about Zack, but she was also worried about finding her long-lost husband so that she could marry Hodgins. And as expected, Hodgins was hostile to any offers of counseling. Sweets didn’t let his caustic comments bother him; he figured that Hodgins would warm to the idea eventually. He would just need to be patient.

But Cam’s behavior over the past week had truly puzzled him. Sweets had thought that the two of them were starting to develop an understanding and mutual respect for each other over the past couple of months. But now she seemed to either deliberately avoid him or was clearly uncomfortable when he was around her. The worst part was that he could never get her to stay in the same room with him long enough to be able to get a read on what was bothering her.

So needless to say he was surprised to find her sitting in his office for what he assumed was some counseling. Her eyes kept darting around the room and she even picked up the squishy sumo that Booth liked to play with for a moment before seemingly changing her mind and sitting it back down.

 _‘She’s nervous about something.’_ Sweets got up and moved to sit in his usual chair.

_‘I’ll need to move slowly.’_

“Doctor Saroyan, how can I help you?” Cam cleared her throat and averted her eyes from his.

“Doctor Sweets…I…I’m having a problem with one of my…with Hodgins,” she said. “His behavior has become…belligerent, and that’s putting it kindly.” Sweets nodded.

“That’s understandable,” he said. “He was quite close to Zack and what happened to him has to be upsetting him. I imagine he feel somewhat responsible for what happened, even if it’s not really his fault in any way. Plus, the strain of having to put his marriage to Angela on hold while they find her current husband is probably not helping matters.”

“But he’s becoming impossible to work with,” Cam retorted, finally looking at him. “Brennan won’t say anything to him as long as he continues to get his work done at the standard of quality that she’s used to. But the fact is, I can’t have him refusing to acknowledge procedure or the chain of command.”

“Have you tried talking to Angela?” he inquired. “I’m sure she can give you some advice on how to best get through to him. Or at the very least, she could convince him to be less combative in his dealings with you. And I think you should know that I believe that once things get straightened out with Angela’s missing husband and they get married, Hodgins’ attitude will improve.”

“Yes…good…thank you Doctor Sweets,” she said, starting to rise from her seat. “That was very helpful. Now I should be…”

Of course any issues that you may be grappling with could also be undermining your ability to effectively lead as well,” Sweets said. Cam froze in response to his words and then slowly sank back down onto the couch.

“What makes you think I have any issues?”

“It’s what made you come to me today, isn’t it?” Cam jumped a bit, but then when back to studying her shoes.

“Doctor Saroyan, despite what you may think due to recent events, you are an intelligent and insightful leader. I’m pretty sure you would have come up with the same conclusions I did if you had been able to carefully think the situation through. The fact that you weren’t tells me that something is clouding your confidence.” Sweets tilted his head at her.

“In fact, I’d wager that this meeting was never about Hodgins,” he said. “Perhaps it’s actually about your feelings about what happened to Zack.”

“And you,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

Cam sniffed and shook her head. Sweets leaned back and crossed his leg over his knee, and waited for her to speak.

“I just don’t understand…Zack…he’s such a bright kid…how could he be taken in like that…unless there was something…something in him that…” Cam stopped and hung her head again, fighting for control.

“What happened to Zack was the result of an unfortunate series of events that just happened to play on his weaknesses,” Sweets said softly. “It was something that no one could have foreseen.” He stopped to study her for a moment.

“The fact that you weren’t able to see the change in him is not a reflection on your ability as a leader, and does not make you a callous person in any way.” Cam gulped and sniffed again. Sweets grew concerned; he thought that his words would have a comforting effect. Instead she seemed even more upset.

“Sweets…that thing you said that night…that night when we found out about Zack…I…I didn’t thank you for it…but…”

Sweets nodded again. He remembered when they were all sitting at the Jeffersonian, reminiscing about Zack and the things that they wished that they had done for him. All of them had regrets about actions not taken. With one notable exception.

_‘You know what? The hell with Zack…he deserves to be locked up for the rest of his life.’_

Sweets had noted the sorrow that filled Cam’s words, and he noticed the way the others were looking at her.

‘I feel that I should point out that what Doctor Saroyan said is simply her way of dealing with grief. She doesn’t mean it…’

Sweets leaned forward again.

“Doctor Saroyan, it’s not unusual to use anger to displace sadness in situations like that,” he said. “It’s a normal response. It’s…it’s a response I’ve had from time to time myself.” Cam looked back up at him, her eyes shiny.

“I know that your position makes it so that you’re uncomfortable with explaining yourself,” Sweets continued. “It was a tense situation that I was happy to diffuse.”

“It was my fault, Sweets,” she said quietly. “I was the one who told Booth and Brennan that you were Gormogon’s apprentice. I had been so sure of it…I convinced Booth that he needed to find proof that linked you to it….It was my fault that you ended up in jail.”

Sweets collapsed backward in his chair, shocked. He had always thought that it was Brennan that had convinced Booth of that suspicion because of how he had deceived her. He had since forgiven her, feeling that her treatment of him was not unwarranted under the circumstances. After his discussions with Booth, he decided to not discuss it in therapy. At least not for a long time.

But it had never occurred to him that it could have been Cam. Sweets shifted in his chair; he knew that he would have to tread carefully here.

“I see,” he said. “Was there something in particular that drove your suspicions?” Cam said nothing, just continued to stare at the carpet.

“Booth told you that I suspected Hodgins, didn’t he?”

It had been a guess, but judging from Cam’s reaction, it was the right guess. He thought again about the heart-to-heart discussion that he had with Booth at the hospital. Then he knew what he needed to do.

“Doctor Saroyan, you were faced with the possibility that someone who had worked closely with for about two years was involved with a vicious serial murderer. And my profiling of Hodgins as a suspect must have almost seemed like an affront against you and the family that had formed in the lab. An affront from someone that was a stranger to you and had shown up around the time this all started.” Cam looked back up at him.

“This case was difficult on everyone. It brought up a lot of intense feelings. Considering all that, it’s not surprising that you suspected me,” he said. “But I hold no animosity over it, so you do not need to feel that you owe me anything.”

“You know what the funny thing is?” Cam said with a half-smile. “After Booth told me about what you said about Hodgins…I did find myself being a bit jumpy around him…I guess a part of me never completely believed that you were the apprentice…” Sweets smiled back at her.

“Well, don’t let this incident create doubts in your ability to run the lab. You’re a good leader. It’s evident in the way you are able to keep these strong individuals in line and working as a team.”

Cam finally broke out into a genuine smile.

“Thank you, Doctor Sweets,” she said warmly.

“You’re welcome. And listen, if you need to discuss this further, we can set up some appointments. Just let me check my calendar…”

“Oh…no…sorry. I’ve got too many things to do at the lab,” Cam said getting to her feet. “I need to start interviewing for a new assistant for Brennan and we are still replacing equipment and making repairs to the lab.” She quickly moved to the door.

“But thank you again,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll put you on my speed dial so if anyone at the lab needs you for anything, I’ll just…I mean we’ll just call you.” She then left Sweets’ office, closing the door behind her.

Sweets smiled to himself again. He was glad that he was able to clear the air with Cam.

Now if he could just convince all of them to schedule appointments instead of just dropping in on him….


	7. Frustrating Confusion, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place right after Yanks in the UK.

Doctor Lance Sweets leaned back in his chair and rested his head on his hand while he watched his two favorite, but most frustrating, patients in the world sit on the couch across from him. The room was silent as everyone waited for someone else to speak first. Sweets worked hard to stifle the urge to roll his eyes; he knew that their not talking was a kind of a power struggle with him. The sad thing was he was trying to do the same thing to them and it wasn’t working.

It was their first session since Booth and Brennan had been to England and all the drama around Angela’s long lost husband had happened at the lab. Sweets was anxious to see what their perspectives were on all of this, but they were still giving him the silent treatment.

He sighed inwardly. He hated to be the first to talk; he knew that it relinquished some of the control he had over the session, but it didn’t appear that he had any choice in the matter.

“So…how was England?”

“Fine,” Brennan nodded.

“Great,” Booth chimed in. “It was a lot of fun. I got a bobble-head Bobby.”

“Ah…that’s nice,” Sweets nodded.

“Well it wasn’t entirely fun for Booth. At least not at first,” Brennan added.

“What do you mean, Bones? I had a lot of fun. We solved not one but two murders. I got knighted, and I got that great bobble-head Bobby. What’s not to love there?”

“You should have seen how frustrated he was trying to drive that rental car into traffic,” Brennan said turning toward Sweets. “He just kept making so many errors that…”

“Ok, point made, Bones,” Booth interrupted. “Maybe they do have some silly rules when it comes to driving, but there’s so much else to enjoy: the castles, the ‘good morning mate’, and of course, the knighthood thing…”

“It must have been difficult for you, Agent Booth, to be put in a situation where you felt out of touch and ignorant of the rules dictating those around you,” Sweets nodded.

“That’s what you decide to focus on?” Booth asked. “No questions about the murders or my knighthood? You just want to talk about my driving?”

“Since Doctor Brennan felt it necessary to bring it up, I feel that perhaps there may be an issue there that needs to be examined.”

“I only brought it up to counter the notion that the journey was as perfect as Booth was implying,” Brennan commented. “It was not meant to disregard everything else that was said.”

“But why bring it up at all?” Booth said. “It doesn’t really mean anything, like you said. So why get him involved?”

“It’s never good to ignore flaws, no matter how tempting it may be to do so,” Brennan answered.

“Why do you see Agent Booth’s unfamiliarity with British traffic laws as a flaw on his part?”

“It’s not so much a flaw as a misinterpretation of the facts. My statement was only an attempt to portray the situation in a more accurate, balanced way.”

Sweets quickly saw that this line of conversation would lead to nowhere but more bickering, so he decided to change gears.

“You said that there were some murders? How was it for the two of you working with your counterparts from England?” Sweets asked.

“Fine,” Brennan nodded again. “The first murder was solved very expediently with the help of Doctor Wexler and Inspector Pritchard. The second murder did not run so smoothly with the loss of Ian’s invaluable assistance, but we managed.”

“That must have been difficult for you, Doctor Brennan,” Sweets said leaning forward again. “Investigating the death of someone you had been involved with earlier in the week.”

“Like I told Booth, I did not take Ian up on his offer for sexual intercourse,” Brennan sighed.

“Whoa…what?” Sweets said, shifting in his chair. He had been talking about her being professionally involved with Wexler, but now the conversation had just become a lot more interesting.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Brennan said, rolling her eyes. “Ian offered, but after talking it over with Booth, I realized that the quality of Booth’s partnership is more important to me.”

“So you’re saying that you turned down having a sexual relationship with a colleague who you were attracted to because you were worried about how it would affect your relationship with Agent Booth?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Wow, that’s interesting….and why was that exactly?”

“You just keep focusing on the wrong things here, Sweets,” Booth growled while he reached over to pick up the squishy sumo that was sitting on the stand next to him. He began to squeeze it in his grip.

“Agent Booth, I think it’s important that Doctor Brennan realizes the significance that a sexual relationship with others can bring to your unique work dynamic.”

“I suppose you mean like the one Cam created when she slept with Angela’s ex-husband?” Brennan mused.

“No…that’s not the same thing,” Sweets said shaking his head. “Angela was not in a relationship with Cam, she was in one with Hodgins.”

“Yes, but now Angela is no longer engaged to Hodgins,” Brennan noted. “It’s a reasonable supposition that that might have had something to do with it.”

“No, Angela’s break-up with Hodgins had much deeper roots than that,” Sweets argued. “Doctor Saroyan’s indiscretion held little weight in that situation.”

“Ok…I’m a genius, but now I’m confused,” Brennan said furrowing her eyebrows. “You just said that Cam’s sleeping with a co-worker’s ex-husband held little significance, but you also imply that my sleeping with Ian would have held great importance?” She leaned back and narrowed her eyes at him a little.

“Is this another one of your experiments?” she asked him.

“Bones, what does that even mean?” Booth wondered. “Why do you keep saying that around him?” Sweets cleared his throat loudly to distract both of them into looking back at him.

“Doctor Brennan, the fissures that existed in Angela’s and Hodgins’ relationship were already there when Angela’s ex came back into her life. His presence just exasperated the problems that were already there. Thus, Doctor Saroyan’s actions, while misguided, did little to affect their relationship either way,” Sweets said. He then straightened himself upward in his chair and leaned back, crossing his legs as he did so.

“However, Agent Booth, Doctor Brennan, I think that this is also the perfect opportunity to examine what the expectations are for this partnership.” Sweets turned to look Booth in the eye.

“Now, Agent Booth when you told Doctor Brennan that the quality of your partnership would be affected by her sleeping with Doctor Wexler, was it because you were concerned about any professional complications or was it because you…?”

Sweets was cut off by the sounds of both Booth’s and Brennan’s cell phones ringing. They reached into their pockets for them and Sweets gave a frustrated huff.

“So many times, I’ve said something about cell phones during therapy, “Sweets muttered. “And yet so many times, I’ve been ignored.”

Booth ignored him and glanced at his cell phone, sharing a nod with Brennan. The two of them then got up from the couch.

“Sorry Sweets, but duty calls,” Booth said with what Sweets considered to be a half-hearted attempt at regret. “Let’s go Bones.”

They then swiftly left the office, closing the door behind them. Sweets sank down in his chair, frustrated.

 _‘For once, I had them on a really compelling and revealing topic…and I had the perfect lead to a real pertinent discussion,’_ Sweets thought, glumly. _‘But of course, another murder comes up. How am I ever going to be able to write this book if I can get any real insights from them?’_

Sweets began to scan through his notes from the session when a new, disturbing thought came to him.

 _‘Is it always going to be like this? Am I never going to make any sort of progress with them?’_ Sweets swallowed hard.

_‘Are they never going to trust me again because of what I did?’_


	8. Frustrating Confusion, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also right after Yanks in the UK.

Sweets sat at a table by himself at the Founding Fathers bar and nursed his drink while he waited for Cam to show up. It had been a long week, but he had been preparing himself for more drama ever since Cam called him and asked to meet him for a drink after work.

Soon he spotted her coming into the door, and he held up a hand toward her so she could see him. She saw him, nodded and headed over to the bar to order a drink. She then joined him at his table.

“Doctor Saroyan, how are you this evening?” Sweets smiled at her. She gave a huge sigh in response.

“Doctor Sweets…I think the Medico-Legal lab at the Jeffersonian is imploding and I’m powerless to stop it.” He tilted his head at her.

“Why do you think that?”

Just then the waiter served Cam her drink, and she took a large sip before answering.

“Well, Booth and Doctor Brennan, they’re...well to be honest, I don’t know what to call that dance they are doing…Angela…I keep thinking that maybe we have moved past my sleeping with her ex-husband…”

“Which, in retrospect, I’m sure you regret doing.” Cam closed her eyes and shook her head. Sweets nodded.

“I see…you regret it, but at the same time you feel that you shouldn’t have to keep denying yourself any sort of pleasure or spontaneity just so you can maintain control over the lab.”

“Point is, Doctor Sweets,” Cam said, opening up her eyes. “Is that Angela has become withdrawn and awkward around the lab, and I’m not sure how to address it. Then there’s Hodgins.”

Both Cam and Sweets decided to take large swallows of their drinks before broaching that subject.

Sweets knew that of everyone, Hodgins was taking recent events the hardest. The loss of his best friend and now the woman he loved were taking their toll on his already taxed psyche.

“If he was belligerent before, he’s downright hateful now,” Cam said. “He’ll still follow Brennan’s orders…if somewhat reluctantly. But he’s barely on speaking terms with everyone else….And if all that wasn’t enough; Clark’s leaving the lab creates yet another problem.

“How so?”

“Well there aren’t as many forensic anthropologists as you might think,” she responded. “Now that he’s left, I’m left with going through Brennan’s grad students to find a replacement. The problem with that is that Brennan’s standards for who qualifies to be in her graduate program are quite different from my standards for a good employee. Plus, these people don’t have extensive track records that could help me sort through them more efficiently.”

Sweets leaned back in his chair and picked at the cardboard coaster that his drink was sitting on.

“I see your problem…have you had anyone stand out in your search?” he asked her. Cam nodded after taking another sip.

“Yes, actually. One of Brennan’s top grad students looks promising. Her work thus far has been impressive and she comes recommended by other professors. Her name is…ah, yes Daisy…how could I forget that? Daisy Wick.”

“It seems like you have that situation in hand then,” Sweets mused.

“But what about the rest of it?” Cam sighed, frustrated. She began to slowly trace circles with her fingertips along the table top.

“It’s like…ever since Zack…ever since he left, things have been, unbalanced somehow. Confused. It’s like no one knows where they fit in anymore. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to run things with it like that.”

“Perhaps you’re not meant to sort out the confusion…at least not most of it.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Doctor Sweets?” Cam frowned. “I’m their boss. It’s my job to handle these types of issues.”

“But this goes beyond the scope of your positions, don’t you think?” Sweets countered. “Getting involved with their personal as well as professional lives?”

“Look here, Sweets, that is something that is much easier to say than it is to do,” she said narrowing her eyes at him. “Besides, you are hardly one to talk about not getting personally involved from what Seeley’s told me.” Sweets hung his head.

“You’re right…I’m sorry I said that. I…I was out of line,” he said somberly. Cam suddenly felt bad about her tone. While watching Sweets now, she saw him the same way that she had seen him when he asked her if he could touch that brain: an eager, curious child who while brilliant, was still somewhat awkward.

She reached over and patted his wrist causing him to look back up at her.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” she said softly. “I know that the first day I started working there, I told myself that I would keep everything strictly professional, despite my past with Seeley…But it’s impossible to do. You just get sucked into their little world, and before you know it, you’ve become a member of their tribe.” Cam laughed a little at that.

“I’m sure Doctor Brennan could give us some reasons as to why that happens on an anthropological standpoint, even if she doesn’t always get it herself,” she mused.

Sweets nodded and remained silent. He didn’t want to say it, but he envied the feeling of belonging that Cam had in the Jeffersonian. He still felt unsure around them and wondered if they saw him as anything more than a shrink and a profiler. He supposed that it was a selfish wish, but he had it nevertheless. Even though he was sorting a lot of things out with Cam and Booth was starting to interact with him casually again, Sweets still felt like there was some sort of barrier that he couldn’t quite cross between him and them.

He shook himself a bit and tried to re-focus on the problem at hand.

“Well perhaps it would have been more accurate to say that the best thing you can do at this point is to sort out the confusion within yourself,” Sweets said. Cam gave him a quizzical look, and he leaned toward her.

“It’s clear that you still have some unresolved feelings about Zack and what he did,” he continued. “It’s important that you give yourself some way of expressing finality about that situation.” Cam looked up, an idea brightening up her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking…Zack’s old office is just sitting there empty. Maybe I should find a new use for it,” she said.

“There you go,” Sweets encouraged her while picking his drink back up. “That would be an excellent first step for you, a symbolic way of letting go of the past.” Sweets finished up his drink before continuing.

“As for Angela…I think you’ll find that she will adjust faster than you may think. She has a pretty generous personality, and this thing with Hodgins has less to do with you than it does her issues with commitment.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Cam said, tapping her nails against the rim of her glass. “But what about Hodgins?” Sweets looked back down and shook his head.

 “Granted, Hodgins will be a more difficult case,” he conceded. He looked back up with her with a slight smile.

“Doctor Saroyan, if you’d let me, I’d like to come visit the lab a few times at some point in the future so that I can get a read on how to approach Hodgins. I promise that I won’t get in the way of any official business.”

“Are you sure?” she asked him. “I mean you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, don’t you?” Sweets shook his head and smiled again.

“It’s ok, I’m sure I can carve out some time so that I can drop by here and there,” he said. “I just hope you wouldn’t mind the occasional hostility that I’m sure my presence will probably generate.” Cam chuckled.

“I’ll try to make sure that he doesn’t have easy access to anything lethal while you’re around,” she grinned at him. “So, how about dinner now?”

“Why not?” Sweets grinned back. He didn’t mind lingering for a while longer. It was infinitely preferable to the evenings alone that were mainly the norm for him these days.  Cam started to raise her hand to flag a waitress, but stopped herself and turned back toward Sweets.

“Wait a minute, what about Booth and Doctor Brennan?” Sweets leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“I’m afraid that we could spend all night here, drinking away, and still never get to the root of that one,” he said. “And here I am trying to write a book about them.” Cam laughed again.

“I don’t envy you there Doctor Sweets. I think I’ll stick with trying to manage Hodgins and let you tackle the insurmountable tasks.”

  


	9. Endearing Awkwardness, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during The Man in the Outhouse.

_‘Why is it that the cases with the most disgusting corpses usually turn out to be the most interesting ones?’_

Sweets was sitting at his desk pondering this question while looking over the file that Booth had given him earlier that day that related to their latest case.

It had started with a body that had been placed head first into an outhouse pit. Sweets had thought he had seen it all, but the cases that were given to the Jeffersonian continued to defy expectations. He was just grateful that Cam had let him wear one of those hazmat suits during the autopsy.

 _‘And it really was a cool suit,’_ Sweets grinned to himself.

The corpse turned out to be a famous reality show host, Bill O’Rourke. O’Rourke was known for having a show which exposed men in the act of cheating on their wives and girlfriends with the oh-so-creative title “Busted by Bill”. This show gave the FBI a slew of suspects from the pool of O’Rourke’s victims.

Booth had given him the file on the case when he asked for Sweets’ help in narrowing down the suspects. He was going to get copies of the show’s episodes and wanted him to watch them with him.

_‘Hey, I’ll bring Bones along and we’ll make an evening of it. I’ll even order take-out,’ Booth grinned._

A secretary came into Sweets’ office and gave him the tapes that Booth had collected. He finished reading the file and wrote down a couple notes. Judging from the corpse he had seen earlier, Sweets had already surmised that this was a very personal killing, an act of vengeance and rage. The information that Booth had given him only strengthened that theory. He was confident that he knew what to look for when going over these tapes. Sweets smiled again; he was actually looking forward to this evening.

Sweets grabbed the tapes and walked out of his office to find Booth. He got on the elevator and rode it to the floor where Booth’s office was and saw him and Brennan as the doors opened up.

“Oh hey, you guys ready?” Sweets asked them as he got off the elevator.

To his surprise, Brennan was leaving on the elevator he had vacated and Booth tried to stop her by putting his hand in the door.

“My gut says you’re going with your gut on this one and we all know how that ends up,” Booth said. “It’s not good.” Sweets quickly became concerned; normally Booth valued her judgment, but now he seemed to have serious doubts about her actions.

“Ah, is there something we need to discuss before getting to work?” he asked while carefully watching the nonverbal communication between them.

But Brennan shrugged them off and left. Booth sighed and put his arm around Sweets’ shoulders while guiding him back to the conference room.

“She has a date,” Booth said. And while Booth tried to let the matter drop there, Sweets could not get that revelation out of his mind.

After loading the first disc into the DVD player in the conference room, the two of them settled in to watch.

“So did Doctor Brennan mention anything about the person she’s going on a date with tonight?” Sweets asked.

“Why is it that you never let go of the things that I want you to forget about?” Booth sighed.

“Agent Booth, I think it’s important that you acknowledge the effect that Doctor Brennan’s relationship could have on your work dynamic.”

“Huh, which one?” Booth snorted.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s seeing two of them…at the same time,” Booth said, shaking his head in disbelief. Sweets sat up in his chair, unable to contain his surprise.

“She’s going out on a date with two people?”

“What? No…” Booth said, making a face. “She has two boyfriends right now….Mark who I had the misfortune of running into at her apartment and this other guy she’s seeing a film with.”

“Uh…ok,” Sweets mumbled. Ever since Booth’s and Brennan’s return from England, Sweets had wanted to talk more about how any romantic entanglements affected their partnership. But he had no idea that the conversation could take such an odd turn.

“Did she give you a reason as to why she is dating two men simultaneously?” Sweets inquired, trying hard to not sound too eager for an answer.

“Something about how it’s all physical with one and the other…” Booth stopped and shook himself. “Wait, why am I telling you all this?” Booth said. “It’s her life…I’m sure she’ll figure it out. Besides we need to be watching these tapes. There’s still a murderer to catch.”

“Yeah, right,” Sweets nodded. While he shifted his focus onto the screen, a thought settled into the back of his mind.

_‘I need to find out more about this situation.’_

* * *

 

As the parade of male humiliation continued onscreen, Sweets made notes of anyone who struck a nerve in him in any way. Booth had gotten restless and went down the cafeteria to get some food for him. Sweets nibbled at it as he watched. Eventually, Booth got bored again and left again. He was gone longer this time.

Sweets didn’t mind. He was fully focused on the task at hand. Plus, he knew that sitting and analyzing people’s behavior was not really Booth’s cup of tea. But Sweets had enjoyed observing people his whole life, so this was not really tedious work for him. Besides he found it amusing in a mind-dulling sort of way how there seemed to be endless entertainment value in seeing men making complete fools of themselves in the pursuit of carnal pleasure.

Booth came back with a plate of food for himself.

“What’d I miss?” he said, his mouth full.

After Sweets dismissed most of the people that he had seen on the show, he showed Booth the footage of Jim Dodd. The two of them nodded sagely at the display of anger Dodd had in front of the camera.

“Wow…various impulse control issues,” Booth said.

“Very good, Agent Booth,” Sweets grinned. He was happy to see that Booth had been listening during their therapy sessions. Or that perhaps Booth had some training in psychology himself. Either way, Sweets was pleased to see the two of them applying similar assessments to the suspect.

But he was in for another surprise when Booth informed him that instead of calling Brennan with the results of their profiling, they were going to go meet up with her.

* * *

 

While they were driving away from the Hoover building, Sweets found himself increasingly confused as to the reason for this errand. But as soon as they walked into the Royal Diner and saw Brennan locked in conversation with a man in a rather tight suit, Sweets had a feeling that he knew where this was going. Even though he knew it was going to be awkward, Sweets couldn’t help but be happy that Booth brought him along for this.

 _‘This should be interesting,’_ he thought to himself.

Still as Booth started to grill Brennan’s date, Sweets couldn’t help himself from hassling Booth a little bit.

“Did you know she was on a date?” he mumbled.

“Slipped my mind,” Booth whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Sweets nodded, but he did not buy that story for one second. One of the things that he admired about Booth was his sharp mind, and he was pretty sure that Booth wouldn’t forget a detail like that.

However, Booth seemed blissfully unaware of his suspicions and continued to interrogate Brennan’s date, a man who identified himself as Jason Defry. At first Sweets thought   
Booth was being rather harsh in his questioning, but soon even he found Defry grating and decided to join in with the needling.

“I have a kid,” Booth said.

“He’s never been married,” Sweets chimed in.

Mercifully, Brennan was soon able to end her date with Defry. But as soon as he left, the conversation shifted to whether or not Defry was gay.

“Then how is it that he’s ok with not having sex?” Booth asked at one point.

“What?” Sweets goggled. His brain was struggling to keep up with everything that was being said and its implications.

 _‘So…she goes from associating with men who want to sleep with her, but turns them down to dating men who don’t want to sleep with her at all?’_ he wondered.

_‘This is **so** much more productive than the last five therapy sessions combined.’ _

“She has issues,” Booth added.

“I do not have issues,” Brennan protested. Sweets sighed inwardly.

_‘I don’t know which of them has more issues: the one who feels the need to date multiple people at the same time to avoid dealing with the feelings she has for her partner or the one who feels the need to treat anyone who dates his partner as a suspect.’_

Soon the conversation shifted back to the case and they showed Brennan Dodd’s segment on O’Rourke’s show and told her about why they suspected him. Afterwards, Sweets noted that Brennan did not look enlightened or intrigued as much as irritated. But Booth did not seem phased by her obvious annoyance.

“I’m just looking out for you, all right?” Booth said. “You don’t have the best taste in men?”

Not long after that, Brennan excused herself, and Sweets took her place at the table.

“I take it that some of the people that Doctor Brennan has dated in the past turned out to not be the best of people?” he asked.

“Well there was the guy who murdered his father and then tried to make it look like he was on some epic quest to find him, for starters,” Booth answered, shaking his head.

“I see,” Sweets nodded. “And yet when she had the chance to date a respected anthropologist like Doctor Wexler, you balked at that too.”

“That was just about sex,” Booth said. “There was no substance to it. Bones needs to set her sights higher.”

“And how high would that be, Agent Booth?”

“She deserves to be with someone who will value her as a person and as a scientist, Booth said, wistfully. “Someone who knows when to protect her and when to let her lead.”

“Someone like you perhaps?” Sweets said softly. Booth frowned at him, but Sweets just tilted his head at him inquisitively. Booth sighed again and pushed the dishes that Brennan and Defry left to one side.

“How about we grab dessert before heading back to the office?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sweets responded. “Will it be a slice of pie for you then?”

“What is your obsession with my eating pie, Sweets?” Booth said, exasperated. “Isn’t there some kind of psychological term for this kind of disorder? Because if there’s not then there should be because you definitely have it.”

Sweets just smiled as Booth flagged a waitress; he was happy that his conversations with Booth and Brennan were quickly becoming far less awkward than before.


	10. Endearing Awkwardness, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place immediately after The Man in the Outhouse.

Sweets sat a table in a dimly lit Chinese restaurant, staring at his plate of fried rice and sesame chicken. Across from him was the recently-fired-intern Daisy Wick. And at this moment he found himself in the uncomfortable position of not knowing what to say.

Looking back on it, Sweets realized that it had been a very impulsive move for him to call her in the first place. They had exchanged numbers earlier that day on a whim, after a conversation that they had at the Jeffersonian.

_‘So, a psychology minor in college?’ he said, trying to be casual._

_‘Yeah, I love to learn about people. They’re almost as interesting alive as they are dead,’ she said with a surprisingly big grin on her face._

_‘Um…ok. Uh, my name is Doctor Lance Sweets,’ he said. ‘And uh, sorry about the hand to the forehead thing.’_

_He felt bad about doing that. While he enjoyed being physically demonstrative in his affection with people he knew and cared about, he was uncomfortable with people he didn’t know touching him. A lingering effect from his childhood._

_‘Well, I’m the soon-to-be-Doctor Daisy Wick,’ she beamed. ‘And don’t worry about it. I just get so caught up in the moment when I’m around Doctor Brennan…She’s my hero.’_

_‘I see that,’ Sweets smiled. She had initially made him nervous, but now he noticed that she was cute if a little odd._

_‘Hey, can I have your number?’ she suddenly asked. ‘I’d love to talk to you about psychology stuff some time. So few people really want to talk about it.’_

_‘Um…sure.’_

* * *

 

After Sweets heard from Angela that Daisy had been fired, he found himself sorry that she had to go. The short amount of time that they had spent together had left him intrigued, and he was hoping to get to know her better during the course of work.

Later that evening, after Booth and Brennan ended their session abruptly to go out to eat, Sweets found that he did not want to spend the evening alone. Not again. So he plopped down on the couch and pulled out his cell phone.

_‘Who could I call? Wait…Daisy Wick…She said something about wanting to talk about psychology some time…maybe she’d like to go out to dinner to talk about it…’_

He started to hit the buttons to call her.

_‘Besides, maybe she could use someone to talk to…She just got fired, that can’t feel good…Maybe I could still help someone out tonight after all.’_

He was nervous as the phone rang, but somehow he felt that being rejected over the phone would go down easier than if he had asked her in person.

“Hi…is this Daisy Wick? This is Lance…the shrink?”

To his surprise, not only did Daisy not reject him, she seemed eager to meet him for dinner. He suggested Chinese since he still had a craving for it and she agreed to meet him at the place he told her about.

That all led to him sitting here, tongue-tied and nervous, across from a woman he barely knew. As a psychologist, he had been trained to say the right things to people based on their needs and moods. But he seriously doubted that Daisy wanted to be “shrinked” on a first date.

“Uh, sorry again that you got fired,” Sweets tried. “I’m sure other opportunities will come up for you.” Instantly, he regretted saying that.

 _‘Way to go. I’m sure she’ll enjoy being reminded again about how she lost her dream job,’_ he thought.

“Oh, that’s all right,” Daisy smiled. “It just wasn’t my time yet. I’ve got some projects that I’m working on that are helping me write my dissertation. Once she sees the results from those, I’m sure Doctor Brennan will give me another chance. I’ll be back there soon enough.”

Sweets smiled at her optimism. Most people, including himself he was sure, would treat such a setback as a crushing blow. Daisy seemed to think of it as just a bump in the road.

He then decided to go with a tried-and-true method that he had learned in his profession: let someone talk about themselves.

“So, what made you choose anthropology?” he asked her. Daisy beamed at him again, and Sweets was happy that he had made the right move.

“Well I’ll admit that I didn’t know back in high school that this was what I wanted,” she said, taking a bite of beef from her plate. “I mean it’s not like they have ‘Forensic Anthropologist’ next to ‘Lawyer’ or ‘Beautician’ on those career tests you take there. But once I got into college and discovered Doctor Brennan’s work, I just knew, you know…Like…you know when you find that thing…that thing that…that…”

“That thing that you realize you were made to do,” Sweets finished for her. “The thing your whole life was preparing you for.” The sentiment was meant for her, but Sweets spoke what had been in his heart when he decided to become a psychologist.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “That’s it.”

“Sounds like Doctor Brennan was quite an inspiration for you,” he smiled.

“Oh she was…the field of forensic anthropology is _so_ interesting…”

Daisy went on to outline the major concepts of her field and related some of the advances that Brennan had contributed. While listening to her, Sweets finally felt relaxed enough to eat his food. Although it was one-sided at the moment, he enjoyed the conversation. She was knowledgeable and passionate about her work. Even if her thoughts came off as a bit disorganized, Daisy’s enthusiasm was contagious.

He had to admit that it was refreshing to find someone else who was so energized by their work and who hadn’t become cynical about life. Sweets, himself was still excited and fascinated by psychology and enjoyed learning new things. He remembered how April was closed off to studying new subjects since she saw herself as a mature adult. It felt good to be around someone who was not so jaded.

“Oh…I’m sorry,” Daisy said her voice timid and a frown on her face. “I’ve been going on and on about me, and not letting you talk. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Sweets grinned. “You certainly know a lot about your field.”

“Thank you,” she smiled again. “And I’m sure you’re a fantastic shrink.”

“What makes you say that?” he asked, curious.

“Because you’re so _nice_ ,” she answered. “Calling me up to see how I was after getting fired. That was sweet…Hey, just like your name.” She giggled a little and took a drink of water before continuing.

“Plus, you’re a good listener…Oh and that thing you did earlier today, figuring out that stuff about the murderer from that picture…that was brilliant.”

“Thank you,” Sweets blushed. He wasn’t used to someone being so lavish in their praise of him. Because of his training and bitter experience in the past, he could tell if he was being mocked, and he didn’t sense that at all from her.

“So what is it that you really do?” she asked. “Are you a shrink or a profiler?”

“Actually, I’m both,” he grinned. “I have two doctorates and…”

“Whoa, two doctorates? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Sweets said, still grinning. “I do partner’s therapy and profiling for the FBI.”

“But wait a minute…how old are you?” she asked, a confused look on her face.

“I’m twenty-three,” he said nervously.

‘Is she going to think I’m too young and treat me like a little kid?’

“Wow…so you’re really smart too,” she grinned. “See, that’s why I have to work at the Jeffersonian. All the smartest people work there. I’ll fit in perfectly.” After gulping down a couple more bits of food, Daisy looked up at him again.

“You probably see a lot of interesting cases, working for the FBI and all,” she said, her mouth only partially emptied of food.

“Yes,” Sweets nodded. “In fact there was this one I profiled for just recently….”

Sweets began to ramble on about a rather involved and gruesome case that he worked up a profile for a couple weeks ago. As he began to detail how he was able to identify some of the killer’s fetishes from the condition that he left his victims in, Sweets stopped himself.

 _‘What am I doing? No woman wants to hear about that stuff. Especially on a first date.’_ When he saw that Daisy’s face contorted into a huge frown again, Sweets became even more worried.

“Don’t stop there,” she whined. “I need to know how it turned out.” Sweets smiled again, amazed that she was still interested and finished his story. At the end of it, Daisy sighed.

“That’s great. You know what? We’re two of a kind,” she said.

“We are?” Sweets said, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure, you help the FBI catch criminals with profiles. I help the dead have a voice by explaining what happened to them, so people can hear their stories. We both help people in the pursuit of justice…Thus two of a kind.”

“I guess we are,” Sweets nodded. He happened to notice just then that they were the only two people left in the restaurant. The owner was standing there staring at the clock and then at them while tapping his foot.

“Um…Daisy, this is fun and all, but I think we should hurry and finish up,” he said. “I think they want to close up for the night.”

“Huh?” she said looking around. Then she gave him a sly smile.

“Oh, this is your psychological training picking up clues again, isn’t it?”

* * *

 

Later, Sweets drove her back to her apartment so that she wouldn’t have to take a cab. He parked and walked Daisy to the door.

“Well I had fun tonight,” he said.

“Me too. It was the most fun I’ve had on a date in a long time. We need to do it again. Soon.”

“All right. We will,” Sweets said, laughing a little. “Good night.” He started to walk away, but Daisy grabbed his arm.

“Hey…Lance. I hope you don’t mind,” she said subdued for once.

“Mind what?”

Suddenly she pulled him close and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. Sweets was startled at first, but he relaxed into it and kissed her back. Eventually they parted; both of them gasping for air.

“Wow,” he murmured.

“Now I know we need to see each other soon,” Daisy grinned. “Well I’ve got to go. That dissertation won’t write itself. Bye now.”

Sweets just stood there and watched her leave, stunned by the turn of events that happened today.

 _‘Did I just get a new girlfriend?’_ he asked himself.

As he walked back to his car, he lips still warm from the kiss, he hoped that it was true.

_‘Daisy…there’s something about her…No matter how this turns out, she will not be like the others from my past…I’m sure of it.’_


	11. Reluctant Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place immediately after The Finger in the Nest.

Sweets leaned back in his chair and stretched, raising his arms above his head. He was at his computer in his office, finishing up another profiling assignment and was ready to send it to the agent who needed it.

It had been a depressing case: a serial murderer who was targeting new mothers. But Sweets had been able to build a profile of a person with issues stemming from their own mother and problems she may have had in relating to her child. Sweets hoped the psychopath would be caught soon.

After hitting the send button, the psychologist became contemplative. Unlike his cases with Booth, Sweets usually did not work very closely with the agents who he profiled for. They would simply leave the files with his assistant and would mainly meet with him once or twice to go over the contents. He was often curious as to how much use the agents got out of his findings. It was part of the reason he enjoyed the partner’s therapy work; there he could see firsthand the impact of his job.

Sweets glanced at the stack of files next to his computer. There were other cases that he needed to get to and since he didn’t have any patients coming in for at least three hours, he was sure that he could get caught up on a couple more profiling assignments.

All the sudden, he heard his office door open and slam shut. He swiveled around in his chair to see Hodgins walk in and throw himself onto his couch with a huff.

“I need to ask you something,” the entomologist said to him. Sweets hung his head slightly.

_‘Perfect…I have two patients who have scheduled appointments, but who try to get out of them, and now I have co-workers who don’t schedule appointments, but who randomly show up in my office.’_

But as he walked over to sit in his usual chair, Sweets decided to not let that bother him. Hodgins was clearly in a bad place these days, and Sweets took it as a good sign that he was actively seeking his help. Even if he was a rather abrupt and terse with him most of the time.

The one scheduled session that they had had been short. After Sweets had made Hodgins aware of his “coping technique of hate”, the entomologist seemed satisfied that things would work out and was eager to end the session. Sweets decided to give him the out of saying that he wasn’t really his therapist since “they work together” since he did not want to push him until he was ready. But he knew that there were more issues at work in Hodgins’ life and he had hoped that the entomologist would seek him out for additional guidance.

Apparently that time had come.

“What is your question, Doctor Hodgins?” Sweets said as he settled into his chair.

“Are you…you’re treating Zack, aren’t you?” Sweets took a deep breath; he knew that he would have to be careful here.

“Yes, I’m his therapist now,” he answered. “I visit him weekly and go over his treatment plan with the doctors at the institution.”

“Do you think he’ll get better?” Hodgins said with more than a little hope in his voice.

“That will be up to Zack,” Sweets said. “I can offer my treatment and insights, but he will have to choose how he will act on them.” Hodgins did not look satisfied with that answer. He picked at some lint on the couch and stared at his feet, which he shuffled about.

“Doctor Hodgins?”

“Why didn’t you catch it before it was too late?” Hodgins said, looking up.

“Catch what?” Sweets said, raising an eyebrow.

“You know…what Zack was thinking…I mean you keep saying that you’re a trained psychologist, but it’s like you didn’t see it coming…him being that psycho’s apprentice. Why did you miss it?”

Sweets didn’t think it was an unfair question; it was one that had plagued him more than once in the past few weeks. He had turned it around in his mind countless times and was no closer to an answer. If he had to pinpoint the source of his confusion, he would have to say that Zack just did not strike him as a killer.

But he knew that Hodgins’ question was not really about his possible oversight.

“Perhaps the question isn’t really ‘why didn’t he see it’?” Sweets proposed.

“What?” Hodgins said, incredulous.

“You’re asking me why didn’t I see it coming, but I think the question you really have is why _you_ didn’t see it coming,” the psychologist answered.

“Ok, so how much have you let the government decide your methodology for therapy?” Hodgins snapped. “Because this is either classic governmental double-talk or some kind of really irritating shrink game.”

“Doctor Hodgins…it’s not your fault,” Sweets said gently. Seeing his confused expression, Sweets leaned toward him.

“Your belief in conspiracy theories did not make Zack more vulnerable to Gormogon’s influence,” he said. “And you shouldn’t berate yourself for not seeing the change in him. You had a lot on your plate at the time with your relationship with Angela.” Sweets’ eyes suddenly grew even more intense, and Hodgins flinched at his gaze.

“Nor should you blame yourself for not seeing what was coming in your relationship with Angela,” Sweets said. “There were underlying issues at work there that you could not have avoided.” Hodgins started violently at that.

“What? Wait…when did we move to Angela?” he said, his irritation increasing. “In fact, why are we talking about Angela at all? I was asking you about Zack, not her.”

“But that’s not something you can ignore in all this,” Sweets said. His stare did not lessen in its intensity and Hodgins was clearly unnerved by it.

“I understand why you don’t trust people,” Sweets continued. “With your background in money and power, you’ve had to be wary of people’s intentions your whole life. It’s why you try to not discuss it with most people you meet, including those you work with. In fact there were only two people who got close to that personal side of you: Angela and Zack.”

Hodgins finally looked away from Sweets, but the psychologist did not avert his gaze.

“But then they both betrayed you, didn’t they? Zack, by assisting a serial killer. Angela, by breaking up with you. You had spent most of your life being hyper-vigilant of the people around you, and both of the times that you let your guard down, you were betrayed. You’ve been so careful to keep everyone at arm’s length that you were blindsided when the people you trusted most let you down.”

Sweets sank further down into his chair and crossed one leg over the other.

“That’s part of the reason you’ve let go of the paranoid conspiracy outlook. It wasn’t just because you felt guilty about Zack; it was also because the possibility of some sort of governmental betrayal seemed trivial next to what was happening in your personal life. Thus, the shift to misanthropy.”

During this analysis, Hodgins’ expression moved from astonishment to anger by the end.

“What are you doing?” he seethed. “I came here to ask about Zack and you try to get inside my head. You’re not my therapist. I didn’t ask for this.” At the entomologist’s angry words, Sweets bolted upright in his chair. He saw that he had crossed a boundary and felt guilty for doing it.

“You’re right,” Sweets soothed. “You didn’t, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone that far…I…I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well I don’t need your help,” Hodgins retorted.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“Yes you did,” Hodgins said. “Before, when you wouldn’t leave me alone…I had to set up a session with you just to get you off my back. What would you call that?”

Sweets sighed; this was not going well at all.

 _‘I pushed too hard, and he wasn’t ready,’_ he thought to himself. He hated the idea that he had lost his chance with Hodgins, so he steeled himself to try to reason one more time with him.

“Doctor Hodgins, you came in here with the intention of finding out if I was in charge of Zack’s therapy, correct?”

“Correct,” Hodgins answered cautiously.

“You wanted the chance to ask me some questions?”

“Correct again.”

“You wanted to know if I found the root of his problems and if I had found a way to cure him and if so, what it entailed?”

“Wow, Sweets. You really are a genius,” Hodgins deadpanned. “You figured all that out yourself.”

“But you also know that no competent, ethical therapist would answer those kinds of questions,” Sweets said, ignoring his tone. “And besides that, you didn’t really want me to answer them.”

“Oh, I didn’t huh? So pray tell, why wouldn’t I want you to answer.”

“Because an incompetent, unethical therapist is not what you want for your best friend,” Sweets said softly.

Hodgins opened his mouth to protest, but stopped and glared at Sweets instead. He then slumped down into the couch and stared at his lap.

“I…I haven’t visited him,” he mumbled. “I know he can see visitors now, but I…I don’t know what to do if I did see him.”

“You could try talking to him.”

“Oh, what a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” Hodgins said sarcastically. “What do you think we should talk about first? Hey Zack, what did you think about that thing at work where…oh wait, you haven’t been to work, you’re stuck in a loony bin. Well, Angela’s feeling pretty…oops, sorry...You know what? We broke up. Oh and how about that latest research article where…my bad, you probably don’t have much time for research since you spend hours in physical therapy every day trying to regain some use of your hands which were horribly burned in a lab explosion. An explosion you helped to set off.”

“I understand that you may be at a loss to know what to do or say,” Sweets nodded. “But I think that’s mainly because you haven’t been to see him and all you have is your anxieties as a reference. But I think once you visit him, you’ll figure out what to say.” The psychologist leaned even closer to Hodgins.

“Besides, he’s still your friend that much I can tell you. And as your friend he’ll just be happy to see you and won’t mind any missteps you may make.”

Hodgins was silent again, but this time Sweets sensed it wasn’t because of anger or confusion.

“And…and Angela,” he finally said. “I still have to see her at work every day. It’s so awkward…for her too…”

“It will be at first,” Sweets agreed. “But over time you will both find a way to move past that. Then you will find a new sort of relationship, one that has a better chance of surviving.”

Hodgins looked back down at his hands, and Sweets could see that he was considering everything that he said.

Suddenly the entomologist leapt to his feet.

“Well…I need to get back to the lab…Cam wants me to run some particulates from the latest crime scene through the mass spec,” he said heading for the door. “See you later.”

And just as sudden as he came, Hodgins left.

Sweets smiled and looked back at his stack of case files. He would only have time for one more profiling assignment at the most now due to this impromptu session. But that was fine with him.

After all, he had just gotten a reminder of why he had become a psychologist in the first place: for moments like this one.


	12. Yearning Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place not long after The Finger in the Nest.

It was evening, and the upper floor of the Medico-Legal lab at the Jeffersonian was empty except for Doctor Lance Sweets, who was sitting at the table, drinking some coffee. He had brought over a couple of reports for Booth to help him on his latest case, and was waiting for him and Doctor Brennan to go over them. The psychologist got up at one point and looked down to see Booth, Brennan and Cam all standing near the forensic platform where yet another corpse was laid out.  He sat back down and after a couple of minutes, he watched as Booth walked up the stairs to join him.

“Agent Booth,” Sweets nodded. “Where’s Doctor Brennan?” Booth sighed and went to pour himself a mug of coffee.

“She’s arguing with Cam about how soon they can strip the bones,” he said. “They are always butting heads on this, though I suppose there are worse things that they could argue about.”

“Like what?” Sweets asked, tilting his head. Booth sat down beside him at the table.

“You know: money, hours, benefits…female…stuff,” the agent said.

“Female stuff?” the psychologist said, raising an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“No I wouldn’t…are those for us?” Booth said, pointing at the stack of files sitting on the table next to Sweets.

“Yes…from my initial reports, I can tell you that the people you are looking for…” The agent held up his hand to stop him.

“Might as well wait until Bones is finished with Cam,” he said. Sweets nodded and took a couple more sips.

“How is Parker doing?” he asked. “Did you have that talk with him?”

“Yeah, I told him to walk away from that girl, but…I’m worried because she still won’t leave him alone, and I’m not sure what to tell him next,” Booth frowned.  “He knows that I don’t want him to fight unless it’s for someone else, but she just keeps pestering him.”

“Ah,” Sweets said, sympathetically. Booth swirled his coffee around and then looked over at Sweets.

“Hey Sweets, what did your dad tell you to do when you had a girl harassing you that way?” Sweets rolled his eyes.

“Agent Booth, I didn’t have…”

“Don’t try to con me, Sweets,” Booth smirked. “I saw that look in your eye when I let you know that no girl ever carried _me_ around like a monkey. You’re a terrible liar; did anybody ever tell you that?” Sweets suddenly had a faraway look in his eye.

_‘You’re terrible at lying to the people you care about, sport.’_

“My dad,” the psychologist said, leaning back in his chair. Even though the memories made him re-live the recent pain of his parents’ deaths, Sweets began thinking about his true father, David Stephan Sweets, and how he guided him through life.

Booth cocked his head at him; normally Sweets wouldn’t talk about himself or his background: a trait that Booth found ironic considering that the therapist was always trying to get him to open up about his past. While he didn’t like to pry, the agent had to admit that he was curious about what he could learn.

“He sounds like a smart guy,” Booth nodded. “You’re pretty close to him, aren’t you?” Sweets smiled and visibly relaxed.

“Yes…Dad could always read me better than anyone,” he said. “I guess you could say that he was a natural at empathizing with others, and he had a big heart.”

“Part of the reason you became a shrink, isn’t it?”

“Yes…yes it was,” Sweets said. “I…I wanted to be just like him when I was growing up.” Booth could sense the need to lighten up the conversation, so he decided to switch gears.

“I bet you were a handful growing up,” he smirked. “I can imagine a mini-shrink asking his parents what their ‘real reasons’ were for assigning chores and psycho-analyzing the dog when he wasn’t watching Star Wars or playing video games.”

“Agent Booth, I’ll have you know that there was more to my childhood than shrinking, sci-fi, and Super Mario Brothers,” Sweets smirked back.

“But probably not much more.”

“I had other interests.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…how could I forget comic books?” Booth chuckled.

“You mean like the ones you read in the bathtub while drinking beer?” Sweets asked.

“Hey, are you going to help me out with Parker or not?” Booth said, ignoring his question.

Sweets sighed; it had been a long time since he had talked about his childhood with anyone, but he was in a congenial mood that evening.

“Well her name was Sandy Dunlop in my case,” he said. “And I was eight, not six like Parker….I was kind of small for my age.” Booth nodded, even though he was tall now, Sweets still had a rather slight frame and almost childish features. He could easily see the psychologist not having a growth spurt until late in childhood.

“Anyway, she just would not leave me alone,” Sweets continued. “I tried running away, hiding, protesting…nothing worked. Mealtimes and recesses at school were hell. And, much like Parker, I eventually go to the point where I almost didn’t want to go to school. But my parents sensed that something was wrong, so my dad took me aside one night and got me to talk to him about it.”

“So what was his solution?”

“Well he suggested that I pick up a really annoying habit whenever she was around,” Sweets answered. “So after that, whenever she came near me, I started to recite every line of dialogue from Star Wars.”

“Ok, Sweets that…that’s just hopeless geeky, you know that?” Booth said, laughing. “And I thought the thing about Voltron was bad…What is it with you squints, that you all get fixated on cartoons and sci-fi?”

“Hey…it worked,” Sweets pouted. “After only two or three times of listening to the speech Obi-Wan gave to Luke about the Force, Sandy made sure to give me a really wide berth.”

“As any sane person would do when confronted with something like that.”

“You wanted to know what my dad’s advice was, and I told you,” Sweets protested.

“I’m not going to have Parker start memorizing lines from movies and then repeat them to his classmates. I want him to have the chance to do things like kiss a girl when he gets older,” Booth said.

“Well obviously it doesn’t have to be _exactly_ the same annoying habit, but I think you get the idea,” Sweets sighed. “Parker just needs to find a way to make himself less appealing to her.” Booth rocked back and forth in his chair for a moment, considering his advice.

“I’ll have to think about it,” he said. “It might work…but with a better plan than that of course.”

“Of course,” Sweets said, rolling his eyes again. The two of them finished their coffees in silence before Booth spoke again.

“What did your dad think…when you told him that you were planning on becoming a shrink?”

“He said that it was a good fit for me,” Sweets said somberly.

“That it is,” Booth chuckled, trying to keep the mood light. “He probably thought it was a natural by-product of your nosiness.”

“And he said that he was proud of me,” the psychologist said, gazing into his empty mug. “I mean, he had always said that to me in the past…but that day, it was different somehow…I never forgot it.” Booth nodded, noting Sweets’ expression. The agent doubted that Sweets ever would forget it based on what he saw. At that moment, Booth wished that he could meet Sweets’ dad, imagining that he was probably quite a remarkable man.

“Booth, Doctor Saroyan is being unreasonable in her assertion that we need to delay stripping the flesh from the bones,” Brennan said, walking up the stairs to meet them. “I doubt that I will be able to get anything productive done for at least a couple days.” Both Booth and Sweets rose from their chairs.

“Doctor Brennan,” Sweets nodded. “How are you this evening?”

“If you must know, frustrated because Cam keeps…”

“Don’t sweat it, Bones,” Booth said, walking over to her. “Sweets is here and I figure we can go back and talk to those security guards while he briefs us along the way in the car. After that we can all go over some more suspects and hopefully by the time all of this is wrapped up, Cam will be done with…with whatever it is that you squints do with dead bodies.” The two of them began to walk down the stairwell, and Sweets scooped up his files and followed them.

As Sweets walked along, he remembered more about that day that he told his father about his plans for the future, and his exact words came back to him again.

_‘Sport…I think psychology will be a good fit. Your mother and I know how much you care for and want to help others, so this is perfect for you. And I just want you to know, that in this moment, I’m very proud of you.’_

Sweets rubbed away the wetness that formed in his eyes and smiled as he listened to the banter that had started up between his favorite patients while they all walked out to Booth’s SUV. He still missed his parents terribly.

But he was also heartened by the fact that he was starting to feel like he belonged somewhere again.


	13. Lingering Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode takes place after The Perfect Pieces in the Purple Pond.

It was the middle of the night in Washington D.C. and a lone figure in a suit was walking down the streets. Sweets had been walking for a couple of hours and was weary, but he kept on moving, trying to clear his mind. He found an all-night diner that was open and walked in. Settling into a table at the back of the room, he had ordered a large cup of coffee and was waiting for it. When it came he thanked the indifferent waitress and took a large sip. The psychologist grimaced, noting that it wasn’t as good as the coffee at the Royal Diner or even at the Jeffersonian.  But he made do because he did not want to go to any of his familiar haunts.

Right now, he needed to be alone and could not risk running into any of his friends or co-workers.

His mind drifted to the case that Brennan and Booth had just wrapped up. Jared Addison had been an odd, but intelligent person trapped in a world controlled by obsessive compulsive disorders. Everyone had been shocked by the idea that his own mother would actually kill him just to appease her own compulsive tendencies. Everyone except Sweets. He remembered all too well how his own biological father would viciously abuse him for the slightest infraction. Once in a while it occurred to him that it may have only been luck that spared him from a fate not too far from Addison’s. A thought that always disturbed and depressed him.

Sweets drank some more of his abysmal coffee, knowing that he probably wasn’t going to sleep much that night anyway. The psychologist wondered if he would ever stop being affected by cases like this, cases where a child suffered at the hands of their parents. He wondered if he would even be able to forget what had happened to him. Sweets doubt it, but then again an instinctive part of his soul reminded him that that was probably for the best.

He thought again about Jared Addison and sighed. It almost seemed cruel; the man was trying to take control of his life and had gotten it cut short for his troubles. Sweets wondered how Addison felt in those last few days. Did he feel free? More alive? Like he was part of the human race again?

_‘Or did he feel isolated? Like when you are looking through a window and you can see a party on the other side; even though you can almost touch it, you’re still separate.’_

Sweets rubbed his eyes; with that thought, he knew he was getting closer to what was really bothering him: the situation with Zack.

The psychologist did not regret his decision to try to treat Zack Addy, but he did wonder how much progress he was truly making. Zack seemed to be fixated on the notion that all of his mistakes could be blamed on faulty logic, rather than some underlying issue with his psyche. Of course, he didn’t expect Zack to accept other more psychological possibilities right away. He was definitely cut from the same cloth as Brennan in that he needed proof and reasoning that could not be called completely subjective in order to accept any of Sweets’ ideas.

But what was disturbing Sweets right now was Zack’s confession earlier that evening that he had not actually killed the lobbyist; he had just helped to set up the circumstances for his murder. Sweets was not that disturbed by the confession itself just because he never could get the nagging doubt out of his head that he could not sense that sort of evil from Zack.

This method of perceiving evil was different from his psychology training. Having experienced some of the absolute worst in human behavior as a small child, Sweets discovered early on that he could sense a person’s basic tendencies toward good or evil after being around them for a short time. It was an ability that only sharpened over the years with additional training from his professors, and this intuition was very rarely wrong in its assessment of others.

It was why Sweets was confused when Zack had insisted that he had killed the lobbyist; it was not something that Sweets could see him doing. The confession that he hadn’t done it made things a lot clearer to the psychologist in that respect. And in fact the confession itself was probably a good thing in the long run. It opened up many new avenues for Sweets to use to try to get to the root of Zack’s issues. It was the first real progress that had been made and the first sign that Zack actually trusted him.

But what was weighing on Sweets’ mind was the implications and the responsibilities that he now faced as a result of having this knowledge.

_‘You can’t tell anyone…because I’m your patient…and you’re not allowed…’_

Zack had demanded secrecy from Sweets, and in essence he had a right to it.

But that meant he would have to join Zack in lying to everyone about the truth.

Sweets sighed while staring at the dingy and slightly dirty table top in front of him. He wanted to tell Booth and everyone at the Jeffersonian the truth, especially Brennan and Hodgins. He knew that the two of them had been hurt the most by Zack’s involvement with Gormogon, and he desperately wanted to ease their pain. But then Zack’s words kept coming back to him.

_‘I’m your patient…and you’re not allowed…’_

One of the tenants that Sweets had sworn to when he became a psychologist was to do no harm to his patients’ mental and emotional well-being and part of that involved keeping their secrets.

_‘But is not telling helping or hurting him?’_

On one hand, he could see Zack’s point of view. If the truth were to come out he would be taken out of the sanitarium and sent to prison. Caroline would probably be pretty harsh with him since she would feel conned having let him cop out on an insanity plea. And Sweets agreed with Hodgins’ assessment that Zack “would not do well in prison.”

_‘But is allowing Zack to continue with this charade the best thing for him either?’_

Suddenly Sweets’ mind flashed back to the last time that he had had to deceive his co-workers and friends: when Booth faked his death. The psychologist was determined to not make the same mistakes that he did when faced with a decision there.

But he knew that he was in a precarious state right now. The state of anger and sense of betrayal.

Even as Sweets tried to sympathize with Booth, Brennan and everyone at the Jeffersonian, he could not help but feel angry at how casually they reacted to Zack’s escape from the sanitarium.

_‘He used my access card to escape…if the people in charge there were to find out…’_

Sweets knew that if it were discovered, his professional reputation would be at risk. Possibly his position at the FBI would be as well. His anger only increased as he thought about how anxious he was while waiting at the front gates of the mental institution. Booth had told him that he was going to bring Zack back to meet him there the minute they figured out what they needed to in the Addison case. But hours passed and Booth had not shown up. Even now the memory made him grit his teeth.

_‘What did they do? Take him out to dinner? Didn’t they realize that the longer Zack was missing, the more likely it would be that his absence would be noticed? Making it more likely that I would be reprimanded….or possibly even fired?’_

Realizing how worked up he was becoming over this train of thought; Sweets grabbed his cup of coffee and finished it in one gulp. It was bitter, disgusting, and cold, but focusing on its horrid taste gave his mind a chance to calm down.

 _‘No,’_ he told himself. _‘I will not let my anger cloud my judgment in deciding what is best for my patient. Not this time.’_

Sweets turned his attention to the world outside the diner window, and watched the people drift by. Eventually he started to consider a new perspective on the situation.

The psychologist thought about how it must have been nice for Brennan, Hodgins and everyone else to be able to see Zack outside of the visiting room of the sanitarium. Sweets shuddered; that place was like the visiting area of a prison…only more depressing. So for a little while at least, they had their friend back with them in their old familiar places.

Sweets found himself becoming wistful at the thought; Angela had been right in saying that Gormogon had “wrecked a lot of lives”. He had certainly hurt the lives of his friends.

_‘Friends? That’s was what it was about…friends…’_

In an instant, Sweets understood that the reason he had felt hurt was because he still had doubts that he was considered a friend or a valued member of a team. This situation with Zack escaping had played into that fear, that doubt. But now he remembered that Zack was their friend too…and that’s all that they had seen in that moment. It was then that Sweets knew that he would forgive his friends for their seemingly cavalier attitude and would never mention how he had felt tonight. After all, he knew that he was far from perfect himself and this is what friends do: they think of the other person and forgive mistakes.

_‘But…what am I going to do about Zack?’_

Sweets frowned again when he thought of how insistent Zack was that he not tell anyone the truth.

 _‘Why would he do that?’_ Sweets asked himself. ‘ _He didn’t even want me to tell Brennan or Hodgins…But if this was just about avoiding prison, I’m sure that if Zack really wanted them to keep the truth a secret, they would be willing to remain silent…So why would he want them to continue on thinking that he was a murderer?’_

Sweets leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him.

‘I mean that’s the sort of thing a mentally unstable person would….’

That thought made the psychologist bolt upright in the chair.

_‘Mentally unstable?’_

_‘Maybe Zack is not a murderer…but he’s not well either. He needs help, and if I betray his trust now, he will shut down and never trust me again. He may be unwilling to trust another therapist for that matter…’_

Sweets thought about how Zack seemed reluctant to go into therapy in the first place; he believed that he only reason he had had any success with him was Zack had known him from before and because he trusted Booth’s assessment that Sweets was “an excellent shrink.” It would be difficult to find someone else that Zack would be willing to listen to.

_‘I’m your patient…’_

The psychologist sighed again; even though he cherished his friends and co-workers at the FBI and the Jeffersonian, his first priority was to his patients. And Zack was one of those patients; he needed to do what was best for him. Sweets knew that this could be one of the hardest decisions that he would ever have to make. He also knew that there was a good chance that Zack would never get better if he persisted in clinging to his delusions. But he had made a commitment to treat him, and Sweets fully intended to work to the best of his ability to help him get better.

Even if that meant he would have to lie to everyone he cared about.


	14. Disturbing Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during "The Con Man in the Meth Lab".

The truth was Sweets was a little worried about Booth today.

He had been shocked a couple of days ago when he found out that Booth had a brother. Shocked and a little annoyed that he hadn’t found out sooner, but he let that pass. Besides, it was clear that Booth had a lot to look forward to here of late. His birthday was coming up and there was that RICO case that he was wrapping up, which was sure to bring him many accolades. Sweets was happy to see that things were going well for the agent. He had just wished that he could figure out what to get Booth for his birthday.

However, Sweets had been watching the news earlier in the day and noticed that there was no mention of Booth in relation to the RICO case, and that worried him.

_‘What happened? That was supposed to be Booth’s shining moment. Was there some sort of political thing that caused him to get shut out?’_

He was heading to Booth’s office to see how he was doing. He knew that Booth would be in and out all day since he was still working on the case with the body that was found in the pseudo meth lab. But since his work load was light today, Sweets figured that he could wait around to catch him.

Sweets heard the ‘ding’ of the elevator door and walked in to see that there was a man already there in a naval uniform. He glanced at the man’s visitor badge and noticed the name ‘Booth’ right away.

“You must be Agent Booth’s brother?” the psychologist said as he got on the elevator. The man introduced himself and asked if Sweets was from the FBI. Sweets hesitated before answering; he was glad that he could meet Jared, but he wasn’t sure how well his being a psychologist would be received.

_‘If he’s anything like the Booth I know, Jared will either have a hard time believing that I could be a doctor at my age or he’ll clam up once he realizes I’m a shrink. Probably both…’_

“FBI, yeah…Lance Sweets,” he answered, careful to leave off his “doctor” title.  He looked down at what Jared was holding in his hands and noticed that they were hockey tickets.

_‘Booth’s a huge hockey fan…they’re probably for him…But I thought that Booth was a Flyers fan…’_

“Capitals,” Sweets said casually.

“Yeah, I know Seeley’s a Flyers man, but when in Rome right?”

Sweets nodded as they reached their floor, and the elevator doors opened. But he secretly thought how Jared seemed oddly nonchalant about giving his brother tickets to see a hockey team that he didn’t actually care for.

“Yeah I still haven’t gotten him anything for his birthday,” Sweets said as Jared opened the door for him. He was hoping that maybe Jared would give him some insight on what kind of present he could get Booth

“Oh, my brother doesn’t like birthday presents,” Jared said as he quickened his pace to get ahead of the psychologist. Sweets frowned at that comment and not just because he was no closer to possible gift ideas. He remembered how Booth seemed thrilled with the bobble head that the police in London had given him and how he displayed all sorts of mementos that he had received all around his office.

_‘That doesn’t seem likely. Booth seems to enjoy getting presents, and I’m sure birthday presents would be no different. Why would Jared say otherwise?’_

Although he managed to hide it, Sweets began to have some unpleasant ideas form in his mind about Jared’s relationship with his brother.

“These are more like a ‘thank you’,” Jared continued, referring to the tickets he was carrying. “Or an apology.”

 _‘An apology? For what? And why do I have the feeling that there have been other “apologies” in the past?’_ Sweets wondered.

“You know how it is with brothers, right?” Jared said as he entered Booth’s office.

“No, only child.”

In the back of his mind, Sweets thought about how, growing up, he had wished that he had had a brother at times. The closest he had was a cousin, who he was only able to see occasionally, but who he kept in contact with through emails and letters.

 _‘I wonder what Booth was like as a brother,’_ he thought.

“Having a big brother is like having an extra dad,” Jared said as he placed the tickets onto Booth’s desk. “A dad who protects you from your real dad.”

Sweets could not hide his emotions in that moment and was glad that Jared did not see his face fall.

He had had some suspicions that Booth may have had a difficult childhood. The past gambling problem along with a few other things that had been mentioned pointed toward a possible trauma from his past. Sweets had even theorized that there may have been abuse, but he had hoped that his suspicions were just the result of his being sensitive to incidents of child abuse. Unfortunately not only did it look like he was right about the abuse, but it also looked like Booth may have shouldered the brunt of abuse that would have been directed toward two children otherwise.

Never before had Sweets had such a strong desire to have been wrong about one of his psychological insights as he had right now.

_‘No wonder Booth feels the need to protect people…he’s had to do it since he was a child.’_

“He always thinks of you like a kid,” Jared said turning back toward Sweets.

“I have the same problem with Booth,” Sweets answered.

“There’s nothing worse that someone who always thinks they’re right. And then they’re always right.” The psychologist gave a half-hearted smile back in response, but truthfully he certainly did not feel like smiling.

“Pleasure, Agent Sweets,” Jared said as he walked out. By now, Sweets felt guilty that he had misled a member of Booth’s family.

“Doctor, not Agent,” he mumbled once Jared was out of earshot. He stared at the tickets that had been left, and then looked a little off to the side to see all of the books and brochures that Booth had showed him about Hawaii were in the trashcan. Sweets felt heartsick at the sight.

_‘Something went wrong with that RICO case and now Booth is trashing all of his birthday plans…’_

He looked back at the hockey tickets and thought again about his conversation with Jared. Just then another disturbing thought came to him.

_‘Did Jared have something to do with all this?’_

* * *

 

A couple hours later, Doctor Camille Saroyan heard a knock on her office door.

“Come in,” she called, not looking away from her computer screen. The door opened and she glanced over to see Sweets walk in and sit down in a chair across from her.

“Doctor Sweets?” she said, surprised. She moved away from her computer toward the center of her desk. “What are you…?”  Cam stopped when she saw the grim expression on the psychologist’s face and the barely hidden sadness in his eyes. She swallowed hard; she could easily think of something that could cause Sweets to have this demeanor.

“This is about Booth, isn’t it?” she asked. Sweets nodded.

“You know about the RICO case, don’t you?” Sweets nodded again, silently. Cam looked down at her shoes and sighed.

“Doctor Saroyan…I know what I’m about to ask of you will be difficult, but let me say upfront that I’m doing this as a friend and not as a FBI shrink.”

Cam lifted her head to look at him, and Sweets noticed how she narrowed her eyes. He knew then that he would have to be the first to offer something in this conversation.

“Let me start with what I believe is happening here,” Sweets said. “I believe that Booth grew up with an abusive father, and that he felt the need to protect his younger brother from that abuse as much as possible. I think that Jared has gotten used to his big brother protecting him, but he also likes to act out in a passive-aggressive manner by finding ways to belittle Booth around his brother’s friends. Now suddenly a career-enhancing achievement was taken away from Booth and, coincidently, his brother shows up with a half-hearted consolation gift. And even while offering that gift, Jared is resentful of the strong, responsible person that Booth has become because he is dealing with a self-destructive habit of his own. Drinking, perhaps?”

Cam abruptly got up from her chair and moved to stand in front of Sweets.

“All right _Doctor_ Sweets,” she said angrily. “Where did you get your information? From Booth’s file? Because there is no way that he would have simply told you all that.”

“It was not from his file and I can tell you that if it had come up in therapy I would have never told you,” Sweets answered calmly, holding his ground. “I hope you realize that. But I’ll assume by your reaction that I’m at least partially right.”

“Whether or not you are is not the point,” Cam spat at him. “What’s important is where you got your information.”

“I met Jared at the Hoover building a little while ago,” he said. “He was dropping off a pair of tickets for Booth to see the Capitals.”

“Seeley doesn’t even like the Capitals,” Cam said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. “He would only want to go if the Flyers were playing them and I’m pretty sure that they won’t be any time soon.”

“I know…that was one of the many things that troubled me in my conversation with him,” Sweets nodded.

“Wait, are you telling me that Jared told you all of this?” she said, starting to calm down. “Because I highly doubt that he would.”

“No he didn’t tell me,” Sweets said, finally rising to his feet to meet Cam. “Not directly. But I had a short conversation with him while he was dropping off those tickets and all of this is what I was able to infer from what he said to me.”

“You didn’t tell Jared that you’re a shrink, did you?” Cam said sinking back down into a chair next to the one Sweets was in. Sweets cleared his throat and shifted his tie.

“I didn’t think it was necessary to reveal that fact at that time,” Sweets said as he sat back now beside her. Cam chuckled slightly.

“Perhaps that’s just as well,” she said. Sweets tilted his head at her.

“Doctor Saroyan?” Cam sighed again before answering.

“Well Sweets, once again you’ve shown me why the FBI was right to hire a twenty-two year old shrink,” she said ruefully. “Everything you said is exactly how it is with Booth and Jared.”

Sweets nodded; he wasn’t really all that pleased that he had been proven right.

“I’m asking…as a friend…what else can you tell me?” Sweets said.

Cam then proceeded to give a condensed overview of Booth’s younger days, making sure to not stray from what Sweets had already hinted at. As he listened, the psychologist grew even more troubled; to say that he felt empathy for Booth was an understatement. But a part of him also felt angry: angry that Booth had had to endure something not too far removed him his own early childhood. Even though he knew that he needed to remain clinical and objective, Sweets couldn’t stop a tiny part of him from being angry at Jared as well for possibly taking advantage of Booth.

_‘Booth’s been taking care of him…protecting him…all along, and all Jared does is resent him for it.’_

“You know, Brennan has taken a fancy to Jared,” Cam said when she was finished relating Booth’s past. “She went with him to a military function, and she’s apparently gotten it in her head that Jared is somehow an improved, more successful version of Booth.”

“Doctor Saroyan, do you believe that Jared was somehow responsible for Booth losing credit on that RICO case?”

“I know that I can’t prove it without one of them confessing,” Cam said. “But…yes I do actually.”

“If that’s the case than Doctor Brennan’s relationship with Jared could be a problem,” Sweets said leaning toward her. “Booth already had to give up a chance at recognition in his job for Jared for reasons unknown…if Jared also causes any sort of damage to Booth’s partnership to Brennan…I can only see this having a painful outcome.”

“I agree with you, but what can we do?” she asked.

“Perhaps we should have a talk with Doctor Brennan,” Sweets said. “We could go over our concerns and decide on a course of action. She cares deeply for Booth; she would want to ensure his well-being.”

“It might not be that easy Doctor Sweets,” Cam warned him. “You know how stubborn she is, and she’s not going to just buy into your theories…even if they are right…without some sort of proof.”

“That’s why I’m hoping that you will join me in talking to her,” the psychologist said. “I figure that since you’ve known Booth and his brother for years, you could provide the evidence that she will need to see our position.”

The two of them sat in silence while Cam considered Sweets’ idea for a few moments. She then got up and went to pick up her cell phone.

“All right Sweets, I’ll help you on this,” she said. “I just hope it works out.”

“Thank you Doctor Saroyan….And is there any way that I could ask you for another favor?”

“What is it?” Cam asked warily.

“Could you give me some ideas about what Booth would like for his birthday? I wanted to be sure that I was getting him something that he really would enjoy.”

* * *

 

Later that evening, Sweets was in the Founding Fathers along with everyone else from the Jeffersonian to celebrate Booth’s birthday. Even Clark had shown up, to everyone’s amazement. He was happy after hearing Brennan’s toast to Booth.

 _‘A quiet man who cares for his friends and family…that describes Booth to a T,’_ he thought.

However, he couldn’t help but notice that Jared stayed at the bar, drinking and not getting involved with the festivities.

Sweets watched Brennan and Booth walk off to the side at one point to talk. They even looked his way and Sweets smiled and nodded at them.

_‘I don’t know if what Cam and I said made a difference, but at least they seem to have worked things out.’_

He was furthered heartened when he saw Booth guide Jared outside, presumably for a private conversation.

_'Maybe Booth is finally ready to make his brother own up to his own mistakes…He needs to let Jared have a chance to grow up…And Jared needs to stop letting Booth “take the hit” for him.’_

But after a couple of minutes, Sweets saw Jared walk back in alone and go straight back to the bar to order another drink. When Booth didn’t return after a couple more minutes, Sweets figured that the talk did not go well at all. He then saw Brennan walk out with a piece of cake on a plate, and decided that it would be best to leave them alone for now.

The psychologist sat down in a chair at the back of the room and watched the party continue.

‘Even if Jared refuses to deal with his issues, that doesn’t mean Booth should do the same. No one should have to go through life having to hold all of that inside…especially someone like Booth…’

Sweets knew that it would be a difficult thing to try to bring up Booth’s childhood in therapy, even if he had no intention of doing it when Brennan was around. After all, Sweets himself, refused to talk about the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his biological father with most people. But he knew how much the therapy his parents had gotten him had helped and doubted that anyone had done the same for Booth.

The psychologist knew that forcing the issue could even put a strain on their friendship. But Sweets decided that if he really wanted to be Booth’s friends, he would have to take on the role of a therapist in this situation.

It wouldn’t make up for the past and it wouldn’t necessarily solve everything for the future, but Sweets hoped that he could at least make life easier for Booth in the present.

 


	15. Tempered Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place during "The Hero in the Hold".

While sifting through a stack of files on the desk in his office, Doctor Lance Sweets wondered if Booth ever had to fend off an attacker with a shoe.

He was thinking back to earlier, in fact by now it was yesterday, when they had gotten the call from the Grave Digger informing them that he had Booth. They were getting ready to meet Booth at a formal function, but instead they rushed over to Booth’s apartment.  Once they got there, however, they all became concerned that it none of them were prepared for any kind of confrontation if needed.

* * *

 

' _You know, if there is anyone in Booth’s apartment…the four of us are walking in unarmed,’ Cam said._

_‘I could subdue him,’ Brennan suggested. ‘I’m quite skilled in self-defense techniques.’_

_‘Yes, but what if he has a gun or knife,’ Cam countered.  Suddenly Angela reached down and pulled off one of her shoes._

_‘We could use this,’ she said. ‘I mean the heel is kind of pointy. I’m sure that it would really hurt if you stabbed someone with it. ‘_

_‘I don’t know,’ Cam frowned. Sweets then reached over and grabbed the shoe from her hand._

_‘I’ll go first,’ he volunteered. ‘If there’s someone there, I can hit them with this and then Brennan can help finish them off.’ Sweets had recently seen Brennan fend off a man dressed as a medieval knight brandishing a sword while unarmed. He was sure that she could handle someone who would have to deal with two people…even if his help would be minor at best. Cam shook her head, her eyes sad._

_‘All right…but please be careful, Doctor Sweets,’_

* * *

 

Sweets thought back now about how they had all been simultaneously relived that no intruder was there and horrified that Booth wasn’t there either. At that time, his brain was working slowly due to still being in shock, but he quickly agreed that there was no other conclusion other than that Booth had been knocked out and probably drugged by the Gravedigger after which he was dragged out through a window. But he still had enough of his senses to argue that calling the authorities was not the right suggestion; he believed that they should just pay the ransom and worry about catching the Grave Digger later.

The psychologist frowned when he thought again about what it was that the Grave Digger wanted: evidence that related to the FBI’s case against him.

_‘He didn’t ask for millions of dollars…but he may as well have…’_

As Sweets read through another file, he began to consider that thought. Traditionally, the Grave Digger always targeted wealthy families; Booth did not fit the profile at all. Even when the staff at the Jeffersonian was getting close to him, the Grave Digger targeted Brennan and Hodgins, two of the wealthiest people in the group, and demanded a monetary ransom.

 _‘This completely deviates from his normal pathology,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Why did he choose to change his pattern now?’_

He slapped down another file in frustration and opened up another one so that he could begin to scan through it. Even though he valued his job at the FBI, at this moment he was cursing the fact that he was employed by him.

* * *

 

_It had really been no great surprise to anyone, including Sweets, that it turned out to be Hodgins that had stolen the evidence that the Grave Digger was looking for._

_‘Hodgins is a driven personality,’ the psychologist thought.  ‘And he’s still doesn’t trust the Bureau despite the fact that he has eased off on his belief in conspiracy theories.’_

_Angela had been able to convince Hodgins to meet them at the Jeffersonian, and Brennan went to confront him on her own. Eventually she had been able to convince him to hand over the evidence that he had stolen. Sweets was relieved that they at least had the ransom that the Grave Digger was demanding._

_But when he tried to join them to plan their next move, they instructed him to leave._

_‘Sweets you shouldn’t be here,’ Brennan said. ‘The Grave Digger said no FBI involvement.’_

_‘I’m a psychologist, not an agent,’ he protested._

_‘A FBI psychologist. Doctor Sweets…get gone now,’ Cam said gently._

* * *

 

That had led him to where he was now: in his office desperately searching through his files and notes on the Grave Digger case for anything that could shed some light on his identity.

Sweets had been angry and hurt that they had shut him out of the investigation, but he didn’t argue mostly because he did not want to distract them from the task at hand: finding Booth. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to find some way to help.

_‘I can’t just go home…Booth could die…’_

He had already gone through all the profiling work that had been done on the Grave Digger along with investigative reports. He had even skimmed through Vega’s book to gain some additional insight. 

It did occur to him occasionally that it would be difficult to get any information he did find to the others at the Jeffersonian since they did not want him involved, but he figured that he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

However, after frantically searching for hours, Sweets could not see where he had found anything that everyone at the Jeffersonian didn’t already know either from their own investigation or from the evidence files that Hodgins had stolen. The psychologist became angry and frustrated that he couldn’t do more.

 _‘The rest of them…they can analyze forensic evidence…what can I do?’_ he thought sourly. _‘Nothing useful…not for them or for Booth.’_

He looked up at the sound of his office door opening and saw Brennan, Hodgins and Angela walking in.

“What’s going on?” Sweets said, rising from his chair. “Have you found Booth?” The psychologist noted that Hodgins stood somewhat distant from them and would not look anyone in the eye.

“No,” Brennan answered. “But the situation has changed. Vega is dead.”

“What?” Sweets gasped. “Was it…?”

“We were not able to examine the remains, but we are fairly certain that it was the Grave Digger,” Brennan nodded. “Apparently the FBI has us under surveillance, and Agent Perotta prevented us from being able to look for any evidence.”

“What?...Why?” Sweets was still reeling from the knowledge the Vega was dead.

“It would appear that the FBI still has some suspicions that one of us may have taken evidence that related to the Grave Digger’s case,” Brennan continued.

“And not unfounded suspicions either,” Angela snapped at Hodgins. Hodgins looked away from all of them and kept fidgeting in the back of the room.

“So…what are you going to do?” Sweets asked.

“We have decided to pay the ransom,” Brennan said. “The odds of other options working are unacceptable.”

“Why did you come here?” the psychologist asked, confused.

“We want you to go with us to drop off the ransom,” Angela said, stepping toward him. “But…if you don’t want to…we’d understand.” Sweets stumbled backwards a bit, still unable to completely process what was happening.

“Why?”

“Cam informed us that handing over the evidence amounts to federal conspiracy against the FBI,” Brennan answered. “Since you work at the FBI, there is a good chance that you could have your practice terminated.”

“For starters,” Angela added.

“However…I concur with Doctor Hodgins that part of the reason that Vega was killed was because he was acting alone,” Brennan said. “I’ll assume that you are still working on the case on your own, therefore creating a situation where you may be targeted as well.” Brennan walked closer to Sweets.

“I think that it would be prudent for you come with us,” she said. “For your own protection and so that you can offer us your assistance.”

“But we also understand if you don’t want to go with us to the drop site,” Angela interjected.  “Cam is holding down the fort at the Jeffersonian. With the security there, she should be safe. We can drop you there so that you can stay out of this, and stay safe too.”

“No matter what you decide, we…we want you to come with us,” Brennan said.

Sweets could not believe it; not only had they come to him because they were worried about his safety, despite the fact that he was in a FBI building, but they asked for his help. Even though his expertise was only in the so-called ‘soft’ science of psychology: a field that Sweets was sure that they distrusted.

In his mind, Sweets flashed back to the day that Booth had handed him the Gormogon file.

_‘We could really use your help on this one, Sweets…I know that Bones and her squints are covering all the forensic stuff, but that’s not the only side to a case and you know it…’_

Sweets then knew what he needed to do.

“No,” he said, straightening his posture. “I’ll go with you to drop off the evidence…I want to help.”

The psychologist could see a faint gleam in Brennan’s eyes and the trace of a smile on her lips at his words. But just as quickly as they came they disappeared.

“We need to leave immediately,” she said. “We have less than ten hours to save Booth.”

The four of them raced out the door, and Angela began to explain their plan to Sweets as they left.

* * *

 

Later, while standing in a back room at the Jeffersonian, Sweets noticed that the mood in the room was decidedly grim.

They had recently discovered that the Grave Digger was none other than Heather Taffet, the very prosecutor who had taken over the Grave Digger case. At first Sweets found it difficult to believe: serial offenders of this type tended to be overwhelmingly male. But as Taffet sat there, eyeing them like they were insects to be brushed aside, Sweets could feel the evil radiating off her. It erased any doubt in his mind that they could have the wrong person.

However, any attempt to get her to voluntarily tell them Booth’s whereabouts had failed miserably. Sweets had had a feeling that it would be this way, even though he wished that it wasn’t true. But he had studied the profile; he knew what they were dealing with.

The psychologist watched Taffet closely, making sure to keep his distance from her. Although he was confident in Jared’s skill at securing her, Sweets still felt deeply disturbed by her presence. The evil he sensed from her reminded him too much of the evil that filled his biological father’s soul.

Still, he persisted in his attempt to penetrate her mind, despite his discomfort, to try to find something that they could use to pry information out of her.

But soon he became more concerned with everyone else at the Jeffersonian.

_‘I hate her…I think I could murder her,’_

Hodgins’ words had worried the psychologist some, but he knew that the entomologist was prone to saying things in the heat of anger. But Brennan’s response made him grow even more concerned.

_‘If any group of people could murder someone and get away with it…it would be us.’_

Sweets could not stop those words from replaying in his mind.

_‘Brennan has always had a reverence for life…She values it about all things despite the fact that she deals with its inevitable end on a daily basis…She may lose her temper at times…but she usually is not as coldly calculating as this.’_

Now as they waited to see if the team that Jared had sent to Taffet’s storage locker would yield any results, everyone seemed even more on edge.  Hodgins suddenly stomped over to him.

“You’ve got to get your hands on some truth-telling drugs,” he insisted.

“What?” Sweets said, confused. He couldn’t understand why Hodgins thought that he could gain access to things like that without the FBI’s knowledge.

_‘Besides, I’m a psychologist not a psychiatrist…I don’t have any medical training that would help me know how to use them correctly anyway.’_

“Unless you’d rather torture her,” Hodgins said.

“I know a little about that,” Jared piped in.

Sweets was horrified at the direction this conversation was going, especially when no one raised any objections to the idea.

“No…what? We don’t do that,” Sweets protested.

“Booth will die,” Brennan said her tone dark. Sweets walked over to her. He knew that she believed that she was making a rational decision in choosing this course of action to save Booth’s life. He also was aware of the depth of her feelings for Booth, despite the fact she had vehemently denied them many times.

But he also knew that Booth would never want her to turn into the type of person who would resort to such tactics, no matter what the cost…even if he had done similar things in the past.

“Character is who you are under pressure,” Sweets said, struggling to keep his voice even and calm. “Not who you are when everything’s fine.”

He hated saying that to her. Sweets had long admired Brennan’s strength of character and her compassion that was just below the surface. But he was sure that if she were to go through with such a thing, it would stay with her for the rest of her life…no matter what the outcome.

“We’re the good guys,” he continued. “We don’t torture people.”

Sweets was grateful that Cam chose that moment to try to reason with Taffet again, even though he knew it was pointless.

“See that’s not going to work,” he said. But even as he explained his reasoning to Cam, he was beginning to loathe his own words.

 _‘All I keep telling them is what can’t be done,’_ he thought. _‘Or what shouldn’t be done…But none of this is accomplishing anything.’_

_‘None of it will save Booth.’_

Suddenly Angela burst into the room to let them know that they had the things from Taffet’s locker. This got most of them moving to examine what had been found, leaving Sweets with Taffet and Jared. The psychologist went back to silently trying to read Taffet, still trying to gain some insight. But she had surrounded herself with a wall of indifference. Again, Sweets felt useless.

_‘Booth needs help…but I haven’t been able to do a thing…’_

* * *

 

An hour later, Sweets was sitting in Brennan’s office on her couch, his head in his hands.

They had just received a phone call from Brennan informing all of them that Booth had been found in time: alive and well. They were flying back to a naval base where the agent would be looked at by the medical staff present.

Sweets leaned back into the couch and sighed. He had almost collapsed with relief at the news, and he ended up moving to sit in Brennan’s office to take a breath and relax.

Now that he had time to think about it, he began to mull over the idea that there could be severe consequences for what he did.

He had heard that Jared had been arrested for his involvement and everyone else was unsure if charges would be brought up against them as well. In the back of his mind, Sweets wondered if he would have a practice tomorrow…or anytime soon for that matter.

Sweets rubbed his eyes; he was sure that his parents would be sad to see him lose everything that he had worked for. On the other hand, he was also sure that they would be proud of him for standing by the people that he cared about.

The psychologist knew that if he had been given the chance, he would do it all again without hesitation.

“Doctor Sweets?”

Sweets jerked his head toward the voice and saw Cam walking in to sit with him.

“Doctor Saroyan…is there any more news on Booth?”

“Not really,” she said, shaking her head. “Brennan called again to let us know that they were at the base and that Booth was being looked at. She seemed to think that he’d be fine.”

“That’s good,” Sweets nodded. Cam sighed and Sweets tilted his head quizzically.

“Look…I don’t know what’s going to happen to all of us now,” she said. “But I want to thank you for helping us…and I know that even if he never says it…Booth thanks you as well.”

“But…but I didn’t do anything,” Sweets said, hanging his head. “It was all of you here …all of you and Jared…who saved Booth.” Cam placed her hand on Sweets’ forearm.

“Sweets…maybe you didn’t examine a body or analyze forensic evidence, but you did help us,” she said firmly. “You were calm when all of us were emotional, you were supportive whenever one of us felt it was hopeless, and you stepped in before any of us could do something that we would regret for the rest of our lives.” Cam squeezed his forearm gently.

“You helped us keep it together so that we could focus on what we needed to do to get Booth back,” she continued. “And that’s why I’m thanking you…I’m glad that you’re part of our team.”

Sweets’ eyes widened in disbelief and Cam chuckled as she rose to her feet, smoothing down her dress.

“Come on Doctor Sweets…I think Angela is rounding up some refreshments and I for one could use a drink.” The psychologist quickly got up and followed her out of the office.

As he walked with her toward Angela’s office, he thought again about what Cam had said and shook his head again.

He now knew that he was part of something again.

Even if he wasn’t completely sure of how it happened.

But somewhere along the way, Doctor Lance Sweets had transitioned from being just a FBI shrink to being part of a family.

And right now, he couldn’t think of anything more important to him than that.


End file.
